


the trees call your name

by spaceprincessem



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Good Peter Hale, Jock Derek Hale, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nerd Stiles Stilinski, POV Alternating, Panic Attacks, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn, Stilinski Family Feels, a smidge of smut, high school setting, just so much yearning, ranch au, soft boys in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:02:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 107,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28210608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceprincessem/pseuds/spaceprincessem
Summary: “That was a long time ago,” Derek finally said, his face falling into its usual cool facade.Stiles felt like he had been punched in the gut. Two worlds, right? Except, it had never really been two worlds at all. If they lived in two worlds, Stiles wouldn’t feel this unexplainable ache that ran deep in his bones. It had always been one world, with water slipping into the cracks, until there was an ocean between them. Stiles was always caught in the riptides, dragged out to sea where he was left to drown, sinking below the surface as Derek grew further and further out of his reach.“Yeah,” Stiles agreed, forcing his lips to turn up in the corners, noting the slight crack in his voice, “long time ago."aka the high school friends to lovers ranch au that no one asked for, but the one that i wrote anyway. This fic is finished, I will just be posting it in two parts!
Relationships: Cora Hale/Kira Yukimura, Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey/Scott McCall
Comments: 56
Kudos: 352
Collections: Rainy Day Reads, Sterek Goodness, best fics ever





	1. Before

**Author's Note:**

  * For [badbrains](https://archiveofourown.org/users/badbrains/gifts).



> WOW. Okay, yes hello everyone. I always plan out in my head what I want to say here then completely forget it when it comes to actually writing any notes. First thing first this fic would not be possible without the love, support, and editing from my super amazing best frannn [badbrains](https://archiveofourown.org/users/badbrains/pseuds/badbrains) Seriously, I probably wouldn't have written this dang thing without them so thank you thank you thank you for getting me through this thing. Really, this fic is for you. 
> 
> Second! For some unknown reason (because I like making things harder for myself) I decided I wanted to make a playlist for this fic. Certain scenes have certain songs that go along with them and I have them linked so that you can listen to the songs that correspond to the scene! Cause in my head it's like a scene in a tv show or movie where music plays. The first word in the paragraph where the song should start playing will be linked (it will be underlined and when you click on it, it should play it off of spotifiy). You may have to right click it to open it in another tab heads up! And if you don't want to listen no worries, just an added experience that I thought would be fun!
> 
> Third, just a few extra things to be weary of. Derek struggles with his sexuality in terms of being in the closet and not wanting to come out to his family because of certain dynamics. Also, his father in this fic is very much not a good father (no physical abuse or anything, more just very controlling and portraying a certain image). Just a heads up!
> 
> Fourth, please don't shoot me for not knowing that much about horses.
> 
> Lastly, this thing was supposed to be like 10-25k max and it just ended up being over 100k. I did not write this fic, this fic wrote me.

_Before_

“Sorry.”

The silence that followed was never surprising, but somehow, after all this time it still stung. Stiles chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, eyes watching the retreating form of the one and only Derek Hale. Star basketball and lacrosse captain, all around hot guy, most popular person in school, and the only son to the richest and most well known family in Beacon Hills. Sometimes it was like they were living in two different worlds, and Stiles wondered if their time growing up together was just one long fever dream. It wasn’t like Derek was ever mean to him, in all reality it was like Stiles never existed. He thought the dull ache in his chest would have faded years ago, but somehow whenever they accidentally collided it was like a small reminder of the past that was ripped away, leaving Stiles to drown. 

Stiles sighed as he readjusted his backpack, turning towards the nearly empty classroom he had been heading to in the first place, ignoring the sound of Derek’s laugh as it echoed down the hallway. While normally he was forced to eat lunch in the too crowded cafeteria - a one stop shop of everyone drooling over the Hale-Whittemore table - it was Tuesday, which meant that Stiles was allowed to commandeer a classroom for his study group. Just because the study group only consisted of three people - all of Stiles’ close friends - was neither here nor there. Besides, they did _actually_ study! Sometimes it was nice coming home without a pounding headache from the overstimulation of sitting in the cafeteria full of screaming (and horny) teenagers.

“Stiles,” Kira greeted warmly as she pulled her lunch from her bag, “you’re late.”

“Sorry,” Stiles said as he dropped his bag on the ground before pulling up a seat between Scott and Kira, “I accidentally ran into Derek in the hallway.”

Isaac snorted as he leaned back into his chair. “Did our wise captain have anything to say?”

Stiles just shook his head, the sharp pain still throbbing in his chest. He could perfectly picture the grey-green eyes moving over him, looking, but never seeing. He felt a small squeeze on his shoulder and he turned to see Scott offering him a smile and half of his sandwich.

“What’s that for?” Stiles asked, cheering up slightly as he quipped an eyebrow at the food.

“Because I don’t see you pulling out your lunch, which means you didn’t pack one _again_.” Scott responded with a pointed look, shoving the sandwich harder in Stiles’ direction. 

Stiles rolled his eyes, but took the food without complaint.

“You never give me half of your sandwich.” Isaac pouted as he crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at his boyfriend.

Scott only grinned sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders as he leaned in to kiss the mad look off of Isaac’s face. Stiles quickly threw a pen in between them. “No kissing! Study time only!”

“ _Stiles_.” Scott whined, giving his best friend his best puppy dog eyes impression.

“Hey,” Stiles said as he laid out his books on the table, “you two are the ones that have to keep your grades up for lacrosse. The only thing I have to live for is to beat Lydia Martin out for valedictorian.”

Kira snorted. “Good luck.”

Stiles flipped her the bird before silently pointing to her unopened chemistry book. It wasn’t completely out of the question to claim the title from the strawberry blonde, considering they were the two smartest people in the school. Stiles just had the bad luck of being completely despised by Mr. Harris, their science teacher, who seemed to take out his anger on Stiles’ test grades. At first their silly bet to beat each other out had started their freshman year when Stiles had an embarrassingly huge crush on the most beautiful girl to ever grace their high school. It was the only way he knew how to flirt and Lydia had liked the idea of someone actually being able to compete with her academically. Of course, as soon as Jackson had staked his claim as Lydia’s boyfriend, Stiles knew he didn’t stand a chance, resorting to just being Lydia’s friendly rival. The crush had faded well into his sophomore year. He and Lydia exchanged pleasantries in the hallway every now and then, but he was far from sitting at the popular table.

Stiles didn’t mind though. His group of friends was small, but they were his and that was enough. Scott had been his best friend since they were born, Kira had made them a trio in middle school, and Isaac came along freshman year. If anything, Scott and Isaac were much closer to popularity and high school fame than he was. They both made first line on the lacrosse team this year after working hard all summer to earn the spot. Derek and Jackson were co-captains alongside their friend Boyd. Coach Finstock dubbed them the “Golden Trio”. But Isaac and Scott had proven their worth and Stiles always joked they would leave him and Kira behind for their new friends.

“Jackson is an asshole,” Isaac reminded Stiles everytime the boy brought it up. “He still looks at us like he can’t believe we made the team.”

“At least Boyd passes to us,” Scott added thoughtfully as he looked up from his English essay. “Derek and Jackson just run circles around the rest of the team to show off how good they are.”

Stiles had helped both boys practice over the summer and hadn’t been half bad, but the thought of absolutely embarrassing himself in front of Jackson - or worse, _Derek_ \- kept him firmly planted on the sidelines during tryouts. Besides, he had enough schoolwork, extracurricular activities, and college preparation to keep himself busy. And extremely stressed.

“You’re coming to the game Friday, right?” Scott asked after a moment, looking up at Stiles hopefully.

“Of course,” Stiles responded with a smile. “My dad’s off so Kira and I can make sure he is firmly planted next to Melissa all night long.”

Scott grinned, but Isaac just groaned loudly. “Please tell me you’re not still trying to get your parents together.”

“Hey,” Scott said defensively, “it’s working! Soon Stiles and I will _actually_ be brothers.”

“That means I’ll be stuck with him forever,” Isaac teased as he reached out, pinching Stiles’ side, pulling a small yelp from the boy.

“More like I’ll be stuck with you forever,” Stiles mumbled, but he couldn’t stop the small smile from curling against his lips at Isaac’s smug expression before the curly-headed boy returned to his homework.

It wasn’t like Scott and Stiles had _tried_ to get their parents together for the last few years. They just happened to notice a shift in the relationship between Stiles’ dad and Scott’s mom, and well, if they need just a little bit of a push, who was Stiles to argue? Melissa had always been like a second mother to him. When Stiles wasn’t spending his days at the Hale mansion he was running around the McCall household causing trouble. His dad deserved to be happy and no one made him happy like Melissa since, well…

It had been a long while since his dad had been happy.

Stiles stretched back in his chair yawning widely, thankful for the coffee Kira had brought to share. He hadn’t been sleeping well since his dad had been shot in the shoulder a few months back. With the stack of medical bills combined with the impending cost of college coming up soon, Stiles felt more pressure than ever to make sure his college resumés were good enough to earn him lots of scholarships. So, if he sacrificed a little bit of sleep to get ahead, it would be worth it in the end (or so he told himself at seven in the morning after only a few hours of shut eye). Besides, his insomnia would have just kept him up anyway, better to be productive than lie in bed staring at the ceiling in frustration. 

[The ](https://open.spotify.com/track/7tUyMzFhsrVGaW2lhinlSd?si=oXbGkfRVSwyQO9vI4P5q_Q)rest of the day passed by in a blur. Stiles was thankful for the fresh air as he and Kira sat on the bleachers by the lacrosse field, each doing homework as Scott and Isaac practiced. Between the caffeine, lack of sleep, and his ADHD medication, Stiles felt a little more than winded for the day. But the crisp, fall air was a small blessing as he inhaled deeply. He usually didn’t like doing his homework during lacrosse practice because he tended to be easily distracted, but the four of them had made dinner plans as a distraction from the nerves surrounding the first lacrosse game. Stiles felt his line of sight wandering over to his friends every now and then, but most of his attention was focused on Derek. 

Derek had always been destined to be a star athlete. Stiles could remember, even when they were young, how fast Derek could run or how high Derek could climb without breaking a sweat. Like it was second nature. It helped that he had shot up considerably in height and quickly filled out in the muscle department - not that Stiles was looking or anything - which made him every high school coach’s wet dream. He was easily the best player on the field, even better than Jackson. What had started as an unfriendly rivalry between the two boys quickly turned into a dominating friendship. Everyone either wanted to be Jackson and Derek or date them. Their ranks had quickly grown with Boyd, Erica, and Lydia. Together they were single handedly the most gorgeous group of people in the entire school. 

The sound of high-pitched giggling distracted him as he pulled his eyes away from the field and towards a group of girls a few rows down from where he and Kira were sitting. He recognized their ring leader, a dark-haired girl named Jennifer Blake, whispering and pointing at Derek. When Derek looked at them, she waved eagerly before falling into a fit of giggles again. Stiles pressed his lips together in thought. He knew Jackson loved the attention - craved it, really - but Derek had always been shy. His closest friends growing up had been his sister, Laura, and Stiles. He was never one to have all the attention on him until he became a breakout star in middle school. Derek just gave the girls a cocky smile before he scooped up the ball, easily scoring a goal.

When Derek turned back this time he wasn’t looking at Jennifer Blake. Stiles tilted his head to the side, amber eyes meeting the grey-green ones for a moment. It felt utterly clichéd, like in those cheesy high school romance movies where time seemed to slow as soft music played in the background. Sometimes, Stiles wondered if Derek _did_ see him. If he remembered. He couldn’t stop his heart from doing that weird flip thing in his chest as he watched a smile spread across Derek’s handsome face, lighting up the field like he was the goddamn sun or some stupid shit like that. Sometimes Stiles thought things could be different if they looked long enough, hard enough. While it appeared that they lived in completely different worlds, at one point they had shared the same one. Worlds colliding didn’t have to be catastrophic or disastrous, maybe it could be gentle and freeing. Sometimes Stiles felt like they could go back and be close again. Sometimes Stiles felt like Derek wanted the same.

But, all too soon, Derek was looking away and it was like he had never even seen Stiles at all.

* * *

“Don’t tell me you’re still awake.” 

Stiles was startled out of his trance as he looked up from his computer, surprised to see his dad standing in the doorway to his room. The deep frown spreading across his father’s face made him immediately turn his eyes towards the clock in fear of what time it was. His dad had been working a lot of late shifts, which meant he was home alone more often than not. Most of the time they were able to eat dinner together. But, since he had gone out with friends, he and his father missed each other in passing. He sighed in relief seeing that it was only half past midnight.

“You’re home early,” Stiles snorted, ignoring his father’s concerned stare.

“I came home to grab some files,” he said, waving them in the air. “But you should be sleeping, it’s a school night.”

“I just lost track of time,” Stiles lied. The late shift meant his father didn’t know his terrible sleep schedule. “Just trying to keep my grades up.”

Noah sighed heavily, shaking his head. “Berkeley is still going to be there in the morning, and the last time I checked, your grades were perfect.”

“Good grades aren’t enough to get scholarships, dad,” Stiles scoffed as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Perfect SAT scores are.”

“Stiles,” Noah said as he stepped into the room, setting the files down on the edge of the desk before placing his hand on his son’s shoulder, “sleep also helps with getting those good scores.”

“I’m fine,” Stiles assured him, ducking his head, hoping his dad didn’t catch the dark circles underneath his eyes that would inevitably betray the lie, “besides weekends are for catching up on sleep.”

Noah sighed, knowing there was no point arguing with his son. “Eight am video games say otherwise,” he grumbled as he adjusted his arm in the sling.

Stiles just grinned sheepishly. “Hey,” he said quickly changing the subject, “at least Friday you’ll have that sling off and you can put that arm around Melissa at the game.”

“Yes,” Noah said, grabbing the files, “I can put my—” he stopped, turning and glaring at his son. “Now wait just a minute…”

“Dad,” Stiles said, cocking an eyebrow, “seriously?”

The two Stilinski men just stared at each other for a moment, both waiting for the other to give. The Sheriff eventually rolled his eyes before mumbling something under his breath that suspiciously sounded like _you’re going to be the death of me_ before turning on his heel and walking out of the room.

“Love you too!” Stiles shouted, smiling when he heard the snort of amusement echoing down the hallway. 

Stiles waited until he heard the car starting in the driveway, headlights dancing across the walls, tires squealing in the distance, before dropping the smile from his face. He rubbed at his eyes tiredly. He was thankful his dad was off Friday and could accompany them to the game, but he wished he saw the man more. He knew that being the town Sheriff was a demanding job, that his dad worked hard, always picking up extra shifts to cover the cost of their most recent expenses. The house felt lonely and the quiet could be so overwhelming, even after all these years. He tried to drown it out with music or video games, but sometimes it slithered in through the cracks, reminding him of everything he’d lost. 

Stiles fell onto his bed, eyes looking up at the ceiling. Although he felt tired, his mind was still very much awake. His thoughts ran between vocabulary words from the SAT prep, math formulas, the plot holes in the last television show he binge-watched, the lacrosse game on Friday, and Derek. It was stupid how much he thought about Derek whenever they ran into each other. He was usually good at avoiding all things Hale, but recently it seemed like he was seeing Derek everywhere he went. At least Cora was too young to remember, so passing her in the hallway barely registered on his radar. He sighed in frustration, closing his eyes, counting down the days until graduation where he would never have to see Derek Hale’s stupid face ever again.

* * *

Stiles wasn’t surprised to see the stadium packed as the lacrosse game began. Beacon Hills was a small town and there wasn’t much to do, so local high school sporting events were the talk of the town. Since they didn’t have a football team, lacrosse and basketball were the two biggest spectator sports. And Derek Hale dominated both of them. Fall was all about lacrosse and when it eventually gave way to winter, Derek would be shifting into basketball season. Stiles was surprised he hadn’t taken up baseball or soccer in the spring, but he guesses even star athletes need a break.

The game proved to be very exciting and Stiles found himself on his feet with the rest of the crowd when something good or bad happened. He was happy Isaac and Scott were keeping up with everyone else, especially since they had a bit of a rough start. It didn’t help that Jackson and Derek seemed to have a more “I” mentality than a “team” one. Stiles couldn’t keep his eyes off of Derek. Watching him during practice was one thing, but game time was an entirely different experience. His moves were sharper, harder, muscles flexing sinfully beneath the jersey. More than once, he caught the cocky smile on Derek’s lips as he made a particularly good play. It was no wonder he always had an audience, it was completely mesmerizing to watch.

“Looks like Scott and Isaac are faring rather well.”

Stiles turned to see Lydia Martin taking a seat next to him as the clock hit zero, ending the first half of the game. A few years ago, his heart would have started racing in his chest, now he just offers her a smile. He thought they would have made great friends if they didn’t run in different circles. A friendly rivalry was one thing, but it seemed they would never get further than that, especially when Jackson was _still_ glaring at Stiles like he was trying to make a move.

“All thanks to the Stilinski Summer Lacrosse Training Camp.” Stiles responded with a grin, causing Kira to snort from beside him.

Lydia arched an eyebrow, cherry lips curling into a smirk. “Then why aren’t you out there?”

Stiles gave her a small wave. “And miss beating you out on getting the highest SAT score? No way.”

Lydia just rolled her eyes, like the thought of beating her academically was impossible. “If you’re ever free, I would love to schedule a study session. Jackson needs as much help as he can get and the rest of the group lacks the focus needed to study.”

Stiles' eyes wandered over to where Jackson, Derek, and Boyd were standing by the bench. Jackson was practically crushing his gatorade cup in his hands, a seriously pissed off expression aimed right at him. Stiles huffed in annoyance. Hadn’t it been pretty clear for years now that he and Lydia would never happen? Why was he the only one that ever received the death glares from the blonde?

“Yeah,” Stiles let out a small breath as Derek turned to look in the direction Jackson was facing, “maybe.”

He only let his eyes linger in the grey-green sea for a moment before he snapped his attention back to Lydia. He highly doubted Jackson would listen to anything he had to say, and just because Lydia tolerated him didn’t mean the rest of her friends would. Stiles was a talker and it was hard for him to sit still. His friends had grown used to how he was, but he could already imagine Jackson snapping at him to shut up or stop fidgeting. Not to mention he would have to act like he and Derek had never hung out before, which, granted, he did that every day, just never in close proximity to the boy. It seemed like a heartache waiting to happen.

“Think about it,” Lydia said as she stood up before moving back to where Erica was sitting.

Stiles watched her go for a moment before the whistle from the referee signaled for the next period to begin. Melissa had just returned with his father from the concession stand, handing himself and Kira a hot chocolate before they took their seats.

“If looks could kill,” Kira said with a giggle as she tilted her head towards where Jackson was still sending his best death glare, though Lydia was long gone.

“And Lydia thinks I’d last more than two minutes in a room with him,” Stiles grumbled as he took a sip from his hot chocolate.

He hoped that Jackson wouldn’t take his anger and aggression out on Scott and Isaac, considering they were linked to Stiles. It would have been bad form since they were down by one point, but he wouldn’t put it past Jackson to pull something like that. Thankfully, the rest of the team curbed his assholeness and Stiles and Kira cheered loudly when their friends got the ball. Derek ended up scoring the winning goal, but Stiles couldn’t stop the smile from filling his face when Scott threw them a giant thumbs up, sharing a matching grin with Isaac. They may not have scored any goals, but they played the entire time and there was plenty of season left.

“I think this victory calls for a celebration,” Noah said as he wrapped his arm around Melissa’s shoulder, pointedly ignoring his son’s smirk.

“Fifth Street Diner has the best milkshakes and curly fries,” Kira supplied happily.

“You had me at curly fries,” Stiles said with wide eyes, his stomach growling slightly. 

They only had to wait about fifteen minutes for Scott and Isaac to come marching across the field from the locker room. They were both still smiling brightly, but Stiles could see that it didn’t fully reach their eyes.

“Great game!” Melissa congratulated them as she pulled her son into a hug, quickly pulling in Isaac as well. “Hopefully you’re hungry for fries and shakes.”

Scott perked up. “Yes, please!”

Melissa and Noah chuckled as they started off for the cars, the four teenagers trudging along behind them. Stiles placed a comforting hand on Scott’s shoulder, beaming at his best friend.

“Well, how was it living the big Lacrosse Star life?”

Scott snorted. “Are you sure you aren’t mixing us up with Derek?”

“Yeah,” Isaac agreed as he ran a hand through his sweaty blonde curls, “coach couldn’t stop talking about how amazing Derek looked on the field and reliving his two goals as we all changed.”

“He wouldn’t have scored that second one if Scott hadn’t stolen the ball,” Kira pointed out thoughtfully.

“At least you got to touch the ball,” Stiles teased. “I half expected Jackson to play _keep away from the newbies_ most of the night.”

He watched as Isaac and Scott exchanged a quick look with each other, their faces falling slightly. Stiles remembered the look Jackson had given him while talking to Lydia and while he hadn’t punished them on the field, Jackson could be a dick in other ways. It seemed unfair his friends should suffer because Jackson somehow perceived Stiles as a threat.

“What happened?” Kira asked, noticing the same thing.

“Oh, uh,” Scott began, rubbing the back of his neck, his cheeks burning, “Derek sort of invited the entire team back to his house to celebrate the first game.”

“Uh, dude,” Stiles said, ignoring the dull throb in his chest because he was happy for his friends, “then why are you coming to dinner when you could be living it up at the Hale mansion?”

“Jackson made it pretty clear that the invitation did _not_ extend to us,” Isaac said softly, eyes trained on the ground.

Stiles pressed his lips together as they made it to the parking lot. He could see Derek and a few other guys from the team piling into his black Camaro. He wondered if Derek knew that his friend was purposely excluding people just because Jackson felt like they didn’t belong. Once upon a time, he’d like to think that Derek wasn’t like that, that he would include everyone, no matter what social circle they came from. For the second time that evening their eyes met and Stiles was once again hit with the feeling of being seen. Derek tilted his head to the side curiously, his dark eyebrows shooting up. Stiles licked his lips nervously, but when he blinked Derek had ducked into the car, the engine starting as music blasted from the speakers.

“You should go,” Stiles said suddenly, turning to his two friends. “Derek invited you, so Jackson can’t _uninvite_ you.”

Scott snorted a laugh. “Sure he can. Besides, we’d rather go out with you to dinner than show up at Derek’s where everyone will awkwardly stare at us.”

“Yeah,” Isaac said with a slight shrug of his shoulder, “who wants to watch Jackson and Derek jerk off to each other’s amazingness.” The sarcasm was heavy in his voice as he scrunched up his nose. “Besides, I’m sure Jennifer and her little crew were invited and I can only take hearing her stupid fake giggle for so long.”

Stiles couldn’t help but picture Jennifer pressed against Derek’s side, his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer, whispering into her ear as she tossed her head back and laughed. He didn’t understand why the image made his stomach twist uncomfortably. It wasn’t like Derek hadn’t dated people before. Sure, Stiles always felt a pang of _something_ during those times - even through his Lydia Martin phase - but he could never make sense of them. He just chalked it up to the nostalgia, just him missing the boy he grew up with. It couldn’t be more than that.

Stiles was shaken from his thoughts as his father called over to him.

“Stiles, come give me a hand,” he said as he pulled out a set of jumper cables from his car. 

Stiles quickly ran over, taking the cables out of his father’s hands. “What are these for?”

“Someone needs some help,” Noah said with a small smile as he looked up at Melissa. “You take the rest of the gang ahead to the diner. Stiles and I will join momentarily.”

Stiles waved a small goodbye to his friends as they piled into Melissa’s car before she drove off. He watched as his dad got into his own vehicle, pulling it around to where a woman was waving him over. Stiles followed, cables in hand, and he felt his breath hitch in his throat as he drew near. Her face was all over town, but it had been years since Stiles had seen it in person. Talia Hale was smiling warmly at him as he approached. Stiles couldn’t help but notice how much of Derek he saw in her face. The same dark hair and eyebrows that were just as expressive as her twinkling green eyes.

“Mieczysław,” she greeted, her smile growing wider. “My how you’ve grown.”

Stiles blinked a few times, not used to hearing his name said so casually - or correctly. It had been a long time since anyone had called him that. Only his mother ever really used his first name and he felt a small pang in his chest at the thought.

“Hello, Mrs. Hale,” Stiles returned politely, nodding his head. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel around her. Part of him had viewed her as another mother growing up, but it had been years since he had set foot in her home. He wasn’t sure what to do with that. Of course, she had always checked in with his father, but it was like a wall had gone up between Stiles and the Hale family. One he was too scared, too heartbroken to look over.

“It is so kind of your father to help me start my car,” she said with a chuckle as Noah took the cables from his son’s arms, hooking them up between the two cars, “considering my son has already left for the evening.”

“Teenage boys,” Noah grunted from behind Talia’s hood. “How have you been, Talia?”

Stiles turned away from the conversation, not really caring how the Hale family was doing. They lived in the biggest mansion out in the Beacon Hills preserve, the proud owners of a large amount of land where they raised horses and frequently hosted fancy parties. They even had a summer camp where Stiles had worked every summer since he could have a job. They always seemed to be on the front page of every newspaper or magazine cover, article after article about how they were thriving and single-handedly keeping the town of Beacon Hills alive. His mother and Talia had been good friends growing up and Talia hired Claudia as a nanny to take care of Laura after she was born. Only four years later, Stiles and Derek came along. Soon, Claudia was bringing Stiles around whenever she could. Stiles had grown up running through the preserve with Laura and Derek - camping out in the backyard, riding horses, and becoming part of their family. When he wasn’t with the McCalls he was with the Hales. Stiles had been on top of the world. Everything had felt so perfect.

Until…

It was strange, living in the _after_ . Even at a young age, Stiles felt like he had fallen into a thick fog. He couldn’t see. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t find his way home. When he eventually stumbled out from the other side, the only place he saw Talia’s smiling face, Laura’s shark-toothed grin, the grey-green of Derek’s eyes, was on a magazine cover at the police station. He was looking at a group of strangers, not the people he’d loved and called a family. It was like losing a piece of himself all over again. Thankfully Melissa had been there to talk him out of _that_ panic attack. Since then, it was like he had never set foot amongst the tall pines that surrounded the Hale home. Laura was the only one who talked to him, hugging him in the hallways at school when she was still living in Beacon Hills. When Laura left, he was stuck with his abandoned childhood, watching it sink into oblivion behind Derek’s eyes.

“Stiles would be an excellent helping hand.”

Stiles snapped his neck so hard in his father’s direction that he could feel a sharp pain shoot down his shoulder. “What?”

His father gave him an unimpressed look as he shut the hood of his car. “Talia was just saying they were looking to hire someone to help with the horses and other things around the house.”

“Oh,” Stiles replied as he looked between his father and Talia. The last thing he wanted to do was return to the place he felt like he never really left behind. 

“Your father says you are applying to Berkley,” Talia said, the smile still on her face. “We can pay you rather well and I will be sure it won’t interfere with your studies.”

Stiles chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. While he didn’t want to be around the Hales - _mainly Derek_ \- anymore than necessary, the idea of some extra income was tempting. He knew it could help alleviate some of his father’s stress.

“I would be interested,” he confirmed finally, ignoring the small twist in his stomach.

“Wonderful,” Talia smiled as she reached out, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Why don’t you come by tomorrow morning and we can work out the details. I don’t want to keep you from your dinner.” She turned, her fingers sliding from his hoodie as she reached out to shake his father’s hand. “Thank you again, Noah.”

“Anytime, Talia,” Noah said politely with a small smile and a nod of his head. “Tell Michael and Peter I said hello.”

“I will,” Talia promised as she moved towards the driver’s side door. “I look forward to seeing you tomorrow, Stiles.”

Stiles’ lips twitched into a half smile for a moment, not sure how else to respond. He could still feel her warm grip against his shoulder, a ghost of the feeling of _home_ lingering behind. He watched her go before he climbed into the car with his dad, whatever appetite he had was suddenly gone.

* * *

_“Do you think they’ll like it?”_

_Claudia smiled as she looked down at her son, watching his small fingers fidget nervously in his lap, eyes darting down to the small bag sitting in the middle console._

_“What did Scott think of his?” Claudia asked gently, running her fingers through the mess of brown hair._

_Stiles looked up, amber eyes wide, a small smile curling on his lips. “He loved it! He said green was his favorite color.”_

_Claudia chuckled. “Then Derek and Laura will like theirs as well.”_

_“Are you sure Laura’s favorite color is red?” Stiles asked, his smile slipping. “And Derek’s is blue?”_

_Claudia cocked an eyebrow, giving her son a pointed look. “Are you calling me a liar?” her voice was teasing as she tried to hide her growing smile._

_“Never,” Stiles grinned as his little fingers reached over, tickling his mother’s side._

_“Don’t start something you can’t finish, little Mischief!” she laughed as she began to tickle him in retaliation, his shrieking laughter filling the small space. After a few moments Claudia pulled back, slightly out of breath. She leaned back against her seat, closing her eyes._

_“Mom, you okay?” Stiles asked, frowning slightly._

_“Yeah, honey,” Claudia responded, gripping his hand in hers. “I'm fine.”_

[Stiles](https://open.spotify.com/track/32lK20RKjtlaX5zsouOI0Q?si=kAKybwC_Qi6JwDveodXTMA) looked up at the Hale mansion, his heart thudding in his chest. He felt his fingers brushing against the light blue friendship bracelet that sat hidden in one of his Jeep’s cup holders. He remembered how excited his mother had been to find the color in the store, saying it matched her beloved baby perfectly. They had immediately gone home, working together to make the bracelet. Stiles gave it to his mother to wear wherever she went. He knew Scott still had his. It was pinned to his cork board hanging over his desk, the forest green having faded into a softer, lighter color. Derek and Laura had probably lost theirs a long time ago. 

It was strange how nothing had changed and yet it felt like everything had. The Hale mansion was about ten thousand square-feet nestled in the deeper part of the preserve. It was made out of wood, painted in earth tones - likes deep greens, browns, and dark blues - making it almost one with the surrounding forest. The second floor was decked out with large windows and a spacious terrace jetting out over the entrance, supported by beautiful stone-grey pillars. There was a completely separate wing where Stiles knew Peter Hale and his daughter, Malia - who was away at private school - lived. There was a stunning rock garden and waterfall adjacent to the house with a small man-made river that ran down the path until it disappeared into the forest. Past the house, Stiles could make out the fenced area where the horses were kept, the matching log cabin-esque barn just out of sight. He could see a gorgeous black and white speckled horse he instantly recognized as Laura’s faithful companion gracefully prancing through the grass.

Stiles leaned out his car window, head resting on his arms as he watched it gallop freely in the wide, open space. All of the Hales had their own horses, plus an extra six living in their barn for when they had guests staying over. The rest of their horses were living at their campsite that ran year-round on the other side of the preserve near the outskirts of town. Stiles and Scott had spent many summers at that camp and Stiles had worked there for the past three years. Even though the Hales owned the land and the camp, they never came around, which had suited Stiles just fine. They all seemed too important, too busy to be involved in one of their smaller business ventures.

A beautiful chestnut horse trotted over to the edge of the fence, reaching down for a yellow wildflower that had wrapped itself around a wooden post. The chilly morning breeze blew through its cream-colored mane. He could see a woman with long, dark hair run her fingers through the soft fur, laughing as the horse playfully nudged its head against her shoulder. She turned, her bright smile and warm amber eyes catching Stiles for a moment. Her eyes. _His eyes_. Stiles blinked and she was gone. He felt something wet rolling down his cheek and he hastily wiped it away. He turned, gripping his steering wheel tightly, half tempted to just hightail it out of there as fast as he could.

It was too much. Too painful. He didn’t want to remember. Not because the memories were bad - in fact they were some of the best, most amazing memories of his life - but they were stolen from him. Ripped from his grasp, broken before he had a chance to hide them somewhere safe. He had to leave them behind where they were cast aside, long forgotten by the inhabitants that helped make them in the first place. He was just about to start his Jeep when the front doors opened and Talia stepped out, waving at him from the entrance of the house. He sighed, putting his best foot forward and slowly climbing out of his car.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen that Jeep,” Talia said with a warm smile on her face, a hint of nostalgia in her eyes as she looked at the bright blue car sitting in the driveway. “I’m surprised it still works.”

Stiles offered her a real smile this time. “I am _never_ letting that thing die.”

“Glad to hear it,” she responded with an amused chuckle as she ushered him inside. “Come on in.”

Stiles could still remember stepping foot into the mansion for the first time, eyes wide and full of wonder as he gazed up at the vaulted ceilings, the towering stone fireplace, the bright chandelier that hung from the middle of the room. It had felt so big, like the rooms were never-ending, beckoning him to their hidden corners, waiting to divulge all of their secrets. He knew there were two sitting rooms, a living room, a dining area, a rather large and impressive ballroom near the back, two kitchens, a library, a game room, and enough bedrooms and bathrooms that everyone had their own, and then some. The other wing of the house, opposite of the one Peter occupied, was for their guests. There was always someone moving about the house - cleaning, cooking, making sure the Hale family had everything they needed. He knew his mother had always gotten her exercise in for the day, chasing around three very mischievous children and one troublesome toddler.

“It’s much quieter now that everyone is grown up,” Talia said as if she were reading his thoughts. “Although,” she was frowning slightly, “sometimes when all three of them are home there is the occasional sibling fight. God forbid Cora sneaks a clothing item out of Laura’s closet.”

Stiles snorted at that. He didn’t have siblings, but being around the Hales and Scott was enough to give him a taste of how loving or evil they could be. Talia started moving towards the larger kitchen, Stiles following behind silently. His eyes darted along the rooms, hoping Derek wasn’t waiting around the corner, but the house was quiet and he figured Cora and Derek were probably still sleeping. As they entered the kitchen, he was surprised to see Peter sitting at the island, a cup of coffee before him and the day’s newspaper in his hand.

“Hello, Stiles,” Peter said without looking up from the paper. There was a small, playful grin spreading across his face. “It’s been a long while since we’ve seen each other.”

Stiles felt his breath hitching in his throat. Out of all of the Hales, Peter had always seemed to be the most interesting and eccentric. He liked his secrets and he was always around to help cause trouble. Stiles liked Peter. A lot. He would sneak them candy when Talia and his mother weren’t looking, or help them pull off ridiculous pranks that scared the maids half to death. He told them ghost stories during their campouts and always had the _best_ marshmallows to make s’mores with. Stiles never saw much of Malia since she was mostly with her mother when they were younger, but there was always an added agent of chaos when she was around.

But, Stiles knew a secret about Peter Hale. One he would take to his grave if it protected the man who was like his own uncle growing up. It had been an accident, a simple chance of fate and bad timing. He was only eight years old at the time. They were playing hide and seek and he had the brilliant idea of hiding in the secret room Peter had shown him only a couple months prior. When he had pulled the book back he was surprised to see Peter was already in there. With someone else. _Another man_. Peter’s startled and furious expression made Stiles burst into tears before Peter reassured Stiles it wasn’t his fault and that he wasn’t angry with him.

_“Stiles,” Peter said, gripping his shoulders gently, kneeling down so that they were at eye level. “Stiles, look at me.”_

_“I-I’m sorry,” Stiles cried, his lip trembling as his eyes darted to the other man who was sitting on the edge of a chair, hands in his face. “I-I was just trying to find a go-good hiding spot.”_

_“It’s okay, Stiles,” Peter soothed with a small smile. “No one got hurt.”_

_“Bu-but you’re upset,” Stiles said in between hiccups. “I promise I won’t tell anyone! I c-can keep a secret!”_

_“Stiles,” Peter said with soft sigh, reaching up to wipe his tears away, “you don’t have to-”_

_“I can!” Stiles yelled, his face blotchy and red. “I know a lot of secrets! I know why Scott’s dad had to leave! I know why that old teacher at Laura’s school got taken away!” Stiles kept babbling, because he knew the town’s secrets. All of them. He was the Sheriff’s son and he listened, even when people thought he wasn’t paying attention. Stiles always listened._

_“Okay!” Peter said, calming him down, chuckling lightly. “Okay, this will be our secret then.”_

He didn’t fully understand it at the time, but as he got older, Stiles often thought about Peter and his secret. It made him sad that Peter felt like he had to hide a part of himself from his family. He knew the Hales were very open and accepting of everyone, but Stiles knew families were a complicated business. He was thankful his father had accepted him fully and without question when he came out about his bisexuality. Some of his other family members hadn’t been so kind, but he had his dad, Melissa, and his three best friends. It had been a terrifying ordeal, but once he had spoken his truth, it allowed Scott to do the same. He’d always thought Peter was brave, but he understood what it was like keeping something like that locked inside.

“I see you’re still wearing those terribly low v-necks,” Stiles teased as he pulled out a barstool, sliding next to the older man.

Peter snorted, laying the paper down on the table, his eyebrows quipping up as he turned to face Stiles. “Oh, how I missed that sense of humor. Neither of my nieces nor my nephew were ever as quick-witted as you were.”

Stiles was grinning now as he saw the smile tug on the older man’s lips. It was like a small acknowledgement of what was between them. Stiles had kept his promise, would always keep his promise, and Peter knew that.

“You clearly have not been around Cora enough recently,” Talia murmured as she poured herself a cup of coffee, offering Stiles one as well. “Would you like anything to eat, Stiles?”

“No thanks,” Stiles declined as he accepted the coffee, closing his eyes as he inhaled deeply. The sweet scent of hazelnut reminded him so much of his mother. She and Talia would always share a morning cup together, making her smell like hazelnut coffee creamer the rest of the day.

“So,” Peter said as he looked between Talia and Stiles with interest, “is Stiles here to become our new stable boy?”

Stiles nearly choked on the hot liquid, sending a pointed glare in Peter’s direction, only earning him that feral grin in return. _Stable boy_? What was this, some old timey movie where he tended to the horses at the crack of dawn and the only words he spoke to the fair maiden flirting with him were “as you wish”? 

“Stiles is just here to help out where needed,” Talia clarified, giving her brother a chastising but playful hit on his arm. “But, part of that _does_ include taking care of the horses, yes.” She turned back towards Stiles, smiling again. “I know you worked a few summers at our camp, leading groups on the horse trails.”

Stiles nodded his head. “Took care of them too, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Excellent,” Talia said. She then launched into everything the job would entail, how much they would pay him, and what days he would work so it wouldn’t conflict with his schedule. They had settled on Tuesday and Thursday evenings paired with Saturday and Sunday mornings. Stiles didn’t mind too much since he wasn’t sleeping in anyway. Besides, by the time he was done with work, his friends would be up and ready to start their day. Best of all, he was probably not very likely to see Derek as it conflicted with his lacrosse schedule. Also, it was clear that Derek was not an early riser, nor would he likely be out riding horses anytime soon.

Stiles finished up his coffee, glad he had brought a change of clothes to get started on his work out in the barn. He got to his feet and was nearly knocked right back on his ass as someone darted past him, heading straight for the fridge. He blinked a few times as the swish of dark, black hair disappeared behind the fridge.

“Cora!” Talia scowled as the young girl turned, blinking what she clearly thought were innocent eyes at her mother.

“Yes?” she asked, the carton of orange juice held in her hand where she was gripping it like she was afraid someone would snatch it from her.

“You very rudely bumped into our guest as you ran to the fridge,” Talia responded, raising an eyebrow that had Stiles swallowing a lump in his throat. How could eyebrows be so expressive and why was it a Hale family trait?

“A bit of an understatement,” Peter snarked as he took a sip from his coffee. 

Cora simply stuck her middle finger up at her uncle while her mother had turned to reach for a glass from the cupboard. Peter only chuckled and Stiles felt like he was holding his breath as Cora turned her gaze in his direction, eyes looking him up and down slowly, like she was a predator studying its prey. She was like a younger version of Laura, but had clearly masterd Derek’s murder-scowl as she continued to stare at him.

“Who’s this?” she asked as she unscrewed the cap, clearly ignoring the glass Talia had sat down on the counter beside her.

“This is Stiles,” Talia replied, shooting Cora a look that dared her to drink straight from the carton, “and he’s going to be helping out around here.” Her lips turned down in a grimace as Cora deliberately looked her mother in the eye, bringing the juice to her lips. “He’s also going to be teaching you to ride your horse.”

Cora spluttered, nearly dropping the carton as her eyes grew wide. “ _What_?” She cried at the same time Stiles squeaked out an “I am?”

“Yes,” Talia confirmed, taking the juice from her daughter before it fell to the floor. “It’s time you got over your fear so you can go out riding with the family. Stiles is a more than capable teacher.”

Stiles watched as Cora slowly spun on her heel, dark eyes narrowing in anger as she directed her murderous gaze in his direction. Stiles had to stop himself from scoffing, this wasn’t his fault! Talia hadn’t even mentioned anything about teaching Cora how to ride horses. This entire family was completely unfair. He looked between the mother and daughter, wondering which one he should fear more. Something told him Cora was probably scarier, but Talia was signing his paycheck and a lifetime of paying back student debt was more horrifying than one Hale sibling scowl. He put on his best smile, trying to show that he was _not_ going to be intimidated by her.

“Yep,” Stiles agreed in a fake cheery voice that made Peter snicker from behind his paper, “welcome to the Master Stilinski Horse Class, kid.”

“Don’t call me kid,” Cora replied sharply as she grabbed the orange juice, yet again sipping it straight from the carton as Talia barked in outrage. Cora smiled as she finished it, slamming it down on the counter. “Tell Derek that’s what he gets for eating the last muffin yesterday.”

Stiles could see Peter practically shaking with laughter now. When Cora brushed past him, her shoulder bumped into his rather harshly.

“Don’t expect to see me around, Stiles,” she told him coolly as she disappeared into the hallway. Stiles huffed a small breath before he heard her scream up the staircase. “Derek, someone drank the last of the orange juice and he’s standing in the kitchen with the empty carton!”

Stiles felt his eyes grow wide as Cora peeked around the corner, aiming a snarky smirk at him before cackling and darting into the living room. Stiles could hear heavy footsteps from above as he looked over at Talia, who just had a hand over her eyes, shaking her head in disappointment.

“There’s a secret back door, right out this way,” Peter ushered him, his laughter subsiding as he jerked his thumb towards a small hallway behind him.

“Thanks,” Stiles managed to say before he beelined for the hallway just as Derek cleared the landing, yelling out his sister’s name.

* * *

Working for the Hales was going better than Stiles expected. Most of the time, he was left to his own devices and he never really saw anyone in the family save for Peter. The older man would come around to tease Stiles whenever given the chance, but Stiles didn’t mind. It was a small reminder of what could have been if things had been different and maybe Peter understood that when he had invited Stiles out for a ride one Sunday morning. Cora did her best to avoid Stiles. Whenever they did see each other, she would just shove past him, a clear reminder that she would _not_ be taking lessons from him. Which, really, he couldn’t understand why. Was he beneath her? Did she see it as an insult that someone like him would know something she didn’t? He tried not to put too much thought into it. He was just happy he hadn’t run into Derek yet. Had he seen him? Sure. But Derek never saw Stiles. Come to think of it, he wasn’t even sure if Derek knew that Stiles was working there.

He wasn’t quite certain how that made him feel. He was already dealing with mixed emotions as he moved around the house and barn. Sometimes, he swore he would catch glimpses of a woman with dark hair, milk-white skin dotted with moles, bright honey eyes. She would flit through the halls, curling her finger like she was beckoning Stiles to follow. She was always out of reach, always gone in a blink of an eye. She was like a ghost, coming and going as she pleased. He wondered if the others saw her too. For a while, she had occupied the small space in their kitchen, hints of cinnamon and clove lingering in the air. It wasn’t fair that she was still haunting these spaces too. 

It was enough that he wanted to quit on the spot and never return, but the thought of closing this part of his life again nearly tore him in two. It was like, by some small miracle, he had found a second chance. Yeah, it came with a price, but what was one more small piece of him in the grand scheme of things?

“How’s life as the Hales’ stable boy?” Scott asked as he stuck his tongue out, tilting his controller to the side as if it would help him speed past Stiles into first place.

Stiles elbowed his best friend, knocking him off course as he chewed on a Twizzler, three-quarters of it sticking out of his mouth, eyes narrowing in concentration. Princess Peach zoomed across the finish line and he threw his hands up in victory, chewing noisily on his candy. 

“Suck it, McCall!” he said, turning towards his groaning best friend. “And I’m not the stable boy.”

Scott snorted as he laid his controller down, his long fingers reaching into the bag to grab the bright red rope of sugar. “Right.”

Stiles rolled his eyes as he leaned against his bed. “It’s actually not bad,” he said after a moment. As far as jobs went, Stiles knew there were worse ones out there.

“What’s Derek like at home?” Scott asked, flipping so that he was laying on his stomach, head propped up in his arms. “He must not know what to do with himself when the entire school's attention isn’t on him.”

“I don’t really interact with anyone except Peter, really,” Stiles admitted, frowning slightly. “And the horses,” he added with a small chuckle.

“Huh,” Scott said thoughtfully as he reached for another Twizzler. “I was hoping you’d be our inside man.”

Stiles barked a laugh at that. “Inside man?”

“Yeah,” Scott replied with a vigorous nod, “get the dirt so that Isaac and I can blackmail Derek into being nicer to us on the team.”

“Oh, Scotty,” Stiles sighed, “there is no dirt to be had. Besides, blackmailing Derek? Not exactly one of your brighter moments.”

“Can’t win them all,” Scott dismissed with a shrug of his shoulders before excusing himself to the bathroom. 

Stiles’ eyes wandered back to the television where Princess Peach was standing on the first place pedestal doing her victory dance while colorful confetti fell around her. The only times he really saw Derek were when he caught the teen heading out for - or coming back from - a morning run in the preserve. A casual observer would say that Derek looked exactly the same as he did at school, but Stiles was oddly perceptive, picking up on the subtleties that most others often ignored or didn’t see at all. He could spot the differences because at some point Stiles had known Derek. At some point they were inseparable and Stiles thought he almost knew Derek better than he knew himself. Stiles hated - _hated_ \- the idea of soulmates because it seemed impossible that some higher power decided who you were allowed to love or have in your life forever. But Derek had felt like _something_.

Even when he was younger, Stiles could feel the electricity, the small currents of energy that could only be described as _magic_ when he was with Derek. It was in Derek’s smile, his laugh. It was in the way his fingers would tingle and buzz with the feeling of something _alive_ when Derek took his hand to lead him to some sort of secret place in the forest. It was warm and comforting, wrapping around Stiles like a shield during terrifying storms and on the days when his mother was getting worse.

And then one day it was gone. 

The ache ran all the way down to his core, leaving him boneless and empty.

So, it was safe to say Stiles had known Derek in more ways than one. At school he was always tense, even if there was just a small tightness in his shoulders or lips. It was like he was constantly trying to perform, keeping up this persona of who he thought the world wanted him to be. All of that tension drained away when he was home. Derek was lighter on his feet, his lips curled into a secret smile, his eyes softer and more at peace as he sucked in the cool morning air like it was his life blood. Scott had wondered how Derek fared without all of the attention, but Stiles knew Derek liked it better this way. He was just really good at pretending otherwise.

“One more game?”

Scott’s voice startled Stiles out of his thoughts, but he quickly regained his composure, giving his friend a knowing look.

“Study time for our chemistry test tomorrow then maybe, _maybe_ , I’ll give you the chance of trying to beat me in another round,” Stiles teased as he turned the television off, grabbing his notes and handing a stack to Scott.

Scott groaned as he took the notes, plopping down next to his friend. “I would complain more, but you’re the only reason I’m passing in the first place.”

“Don’t I know it, Scotty,” Stiles quipped with an amused grin.

* * *

_“What’s your name?”_

_Stiles watched the dark eyebrows shoot up in curiosity and he was reminded of one of those cartoon characters he and Scotty watched on Saturday mornings while Melissa made them breakfast. He almost wanted to reach out and touch them, but he kept his fingers firmly gripped around the hem of his hoodie._

_“Mischief,” Stiles said with a grin, enjoying how the brows furrowed on the other boy’s face._

_“That’s not a real name,” The boy scoffed as he crossed his arms over his chest._

_“It is,” Stiles hummed. “It’s my name.”_

_“No, it’s not,” the other boy argued._

_“Don’t be such a sourwolf, Derek,” an older girl said as she came up beside the boy, pinching him in the side. “I think it’s a cool name. I’m Laura by the way,” she told Stiles, her dark eyes assessing him before she continued to pinch her brother, who was now whining and swatting at her hand._

_Stiles grinned. “Sourwolf,” he said as he poked at Derek._

_“That’s not my name,” Derek grumbled. “And Mischief isn’t yours.”_

_Stiles frowned. Of course it was his name. That’s what his mother called him, how could it not be his name?_

_“Scotty calls me Stiles.”_

_Derek’s eyebrows shot up again and Stiles really had to fight the urge to reach out and touch them._

_“You’re weird,” Derek said, but now he was smiling slightly. “Stiles. I like Stiles.”_

_“Stiles it is,” he said as he gave Derek a mocking bow. “Lord Sourwolf.”_

Stiles rolled over onto his back, his hands coming up to rub his tired eyes. He was surprised to find his cheeks damp and his fingers wet with tears. He blinked a few times, shaking the memory of the dream away. He laid there for a moment, eyes roaming over the popcorn ceiling like it would give him an answer to a question he didn’t ask. He felt groggy and still slightly out of it, considering it had taken him forever to fall asleep. He contemplated rolling over and falling back into the dream when his phone buzzed loudly on his dresser. He quickly snatched it up, eyes immediately snapping to Scott’s text message that was in all caps.

_Scott: DUDE WHERE ARE YOU?_

Stiles bolted out of bed, never moving so quickly in his life. He had _exactly_ twelve minutes to get to school if he wanted to be on time for Harris’ class, who would, undoubtedly, punish him for being late. He had barely brushed his teeth, threw on clean clothes, and was out the door, passing his father who was on his way in. He may have yelled something that sounded like “hidadloveyoubye.” He also may have broken several traffic laws getting to school, but that was his business, thank you very much. He didn’t even bother to stop at his locker as he sprinted down the hallway, the bell having rung five minutes ago. He stumbled into his chemistry class, every single eye turning to him. Stiles laughed nervously as he tripped into his seat next to Isaac, his friend shooting him a worried glance.

“Stiles,” Isaac said, gripping Stiles’ arm to steady him, “are you okay?”

“I’m....fine…” Stiles wheezed out, feeling a stitch in his side as he dropped his bag to the ground.

“Mr. Stilinski,” Mr. Harris’ voice drawled from right in front of him, making Stiles jump in his seat, “so glad you decided to join us this morning.”

Stiles groaned internally as he looked up at the instructor who hated him like _that_ was his job instead of teaching. “Sorry, Mr. Harris, I-”

“If my class isn’t important to you, Mr. Stilinski,” Mr. Harris continued on like Stiles hadn’t spoken, passing out test papers down the row, deliberately skipping Stiles, “then maybe I should just give you an automatic zero for today.”

Stiles felt his throat constricting, a surge of panic rising up. He gripped the desk tightly, trying to remind himself to breathe. Mr. Harris wouldn’t do that. It was just a threat. _It was just a threat._ Still, he couldn’t stop his chest from heaving as he tried, and failed, to find the words to make this all right.

“That’s not fair!” Isaac said, face scrunching in anger. “Stiles clearly ran here in a panic to make sure he would be able to take this test.”

“Mr. Lahey,” Mr. Harris growled as he turned his malicious gaze from Stiles to Isaac, “keep up with the outburst and you can sit in detention this afternoon with your little pal.”

Stiles could hear Jackson and Jennifer snickering behind them, but he could care less about that. He turned towards Isaac, shaking his head, giving him a look that told his friend to back down. He knew that Coach was very strict about people missing lacrosse practice unless it was an emergency. He couldn’t risk Isaac getting benched because he had stuck up for Stiles, not when his time was already limited by Jackson and the other assholes on the team. Isaac’s cheeks were burning, but he looked away from Mr. Harris, jaw trembling in anger as he kept his mouth shut. Stiles turned his attention back to his teacher, eyes wide as he awaited his fate. He couldn’t afford to take a zero on this test, not when Mr. Harris was already docking stupid points from his homework, effectively bringing is grade down and knocking him out of the spot for valedictorian. 

“Detention will do just fine,” Mr. Harris said with a sigh as he laid a test paper on Stiles’ desk. “I’ll see you at the end of the day, Mr. Stilinski.”

Stiles closed his eyes, sighing in relief. While detention wasn’t optimal, especially since he had to work later, it was better than taking a zero. He could see that Isaac was still upset, so he offered his friend a small smile, squeezing his arm as Mr. Harris turned towards the front of the class, telling them to begin. Stiles tried to ignore some of the pointed looks he got from the people sitting around him as his leg bounced obnoxiously in his seat. He hadn’t had time to take his Adderall and his emergency bottle was in his locker. As he was running on little sleep and no breakfast, his ADHD was making it extremely hard to concentrate, causing him to fidget way more than he usually did at his desk. He didn’t even realize he was doing it until Harris barked at him to sit still halfway through the exam. This earned a few more snickers from Jackson and Jennifer. While Stiles did his best to ignore them, he couldn’t stop the water from pooling in his eyes. He hastily wiped them away when, thankfully, no one was paying attention.

“Have fun in detention, Stilinski,” Jennifer said with a shark-toothed grin as she passed Stiles in the aisle, bumping into his shoulder, her dark hair whipping in his face as she snapped her head forward.

Stiles numbly walked out into the hallway, Isaac right behind him. He only had a moment to shaily catch his breath before he was flanked by Scott and Kira. He was slightly startled, but chuckled weakly as he was pulled into a three way hug by his friends.

“Isaac said Harris was being a dick,” Scott said as he pulled back, giving Stiles a look of worry.

“More than usual,” Stiles told them with a small shrug of his shoulders as he readjusted his backpack. “Didn’t help that Jackson and Jennifer were enjoying the show.”

“They did look way too pleased walking down the hallway,” Kira agreed with a frown as they moved to their lockers.

Stiles was thankful for the emergency medication bottle. He didn’t want to suffer through the rest of the day being yelled at by teachers because he couldn’t sit still. When he closed his locker door, Kira was holding out a beautiful, bright green apple and he smiled warmly at her.

He thanked her, taking it from her hand before he sunk his teeth into the juicy bitterness.

“I know sometimes you feel sick if you don’t eat before taking your medicine,” Kira told him with a shrug like it wasn’t a big deal at all that she paid attention and cared about Stiles.

“I do,” Stiles said, taking another large bite before pulling her into another hug, feeling his weight sag a bit in her hold. He always made sure to take care of his friends, because they were all he had, but sometimes he forgot they liked to take care of him, too.

He waved his friends a goodbye as he turned to head towards his advanced math class, feeling a little better than he did earlier. He brought the apple up to his lips, prepared to chomp down when he collided with another figure in the hallway. The apple flew into the air and he felt himself starting to fall to the floor when a strong hand reached out and grabbed him.

“Sorry.”

Stiles froze when he heard that voice, his heart beat increasing tenfold, threatening to burst from his chest. He really didn’t want to look up, but he forced his gaze forward, meeting the grey-green eyes of Derek Hale. Derek was still holding onto Stiles, his brows furrowing deeply and Stiles hated how tempted he was to run his fingers across them. His mouth felt dry and his tongue darted out to lick his lips as he urged his brain to think of something - _anything_ \- to say.

“I - uh, it’s fine,” he finally squeaked out.

“I should have been paying more attention,” Derek said, eyebrows still furrowed in deep thought as his gaze swept over Stiles intensely.

Stiles looked away, but he noticed that Derek’s fingers were still wrapped around his wrist, holding him delicately like he would break if Derek applied any more pressure. He tried not to think about the heat, the spark of _something_ , that lingered at the touch. Instead, he focused all of his attention on his apple that was now stuck under a set of lockers, resting in a pile of dust. His stomach grumbled uncomfortably and he wondered if he’d be able to make it to lunch without being sick.

“Here.”

Stiles blinked up in surprise as Derek released him, pulling his backpack around. He reached inside, lips pouting slightly as he searched around before pulling out a granola bar and holding it out for Stiles to take.

“What’s that for?” Stiles asked as he looked between Derek and the granola bar, not sure if he had slipped into some weird fever dream or not.

Derek huffed, shaking the bar in Stiles’ direction. “For knocking your apple out of your hand. Just take it, I don’t need it.”

Stiles’ fingers reached around the bar, barely brushing against Derek’s, the hum of electricity snapping between them for the briefest of moments. If Derek had noticed it, he didn’t say anything.

“Thanks,” Stiles said, meeting Derek’s eyes again.

“Don’t mention it,” Derek shrugged as he started off down the hallway like nothing had happened.

Stiles watched him go, head cocked over his shoulder, gripping the granola bar tightly in his hand. For a moment, he felt like his breath had been stolen, but it wasn’t until Derek looked back, body half turning, grey-greens searching over the crowd until they found Stiles, did it feel like the rest of the world faded away. It was like all the air had been sucked out of the room and the only thing keeping Stiles grounded was that look of innocent curiosity, a hint of something deeper, something _more._ Seconds, minutes, hours, days, _years_ could have passed in the space between them and Stiles would have never known. Derek had never looked at him like that before and Stiles didn’t know what to do with it. This time, Stiles looked away first, breaking whatever spell had befallen him in that moment. His heart still felt like a war drum and it wasn’t until the first warning bell rang that he realized he hadn’t moved from his spot. He quickly took off down the hall, wondering how Derek Hale of all people could still make him feel out of his element. 

* * *

His after school detention forced him to go straight to the Hale mansion instead of heading home first. Luckily, Scott had packed an extra sandwich and Stiles may or may not have stopped and picked up a double shot of espresso to get him through the evening. His mind was still reeling from his run in with Derek. He had looked back. He had looked back at Stiles and something had been there, even if Stiles couldn’t describe what it was, it was still _there_. He hoped lacrosse practice would run late this evening so there wasn’t a chance of seeing him again. He pulled in the driveway with one minute to spare and was surprised to see Talia and a very unhappy Cora waiting for him by the front door. Stiles sighed as he put the Jeep in park. As if his day hadn’t been bad enough, he had a feeling he was going to be on the receiving end of Cora’s anger. How quickly downed the rest of his coffee and tried for a smile as he got out of his car.

“Evening, Mrs. Hale,” Stiles greeted with a polite nod before turning his eyes to her daughter, “Cora.”

Cora only scowled, her arms crossing over her chest as she glared at her mother who was smiling pleasantly at Stiles.

“Stiles,” Talia said as she shoved Cora forward off of the porch, “Cora has finally decided she is ready to begin her lessons.”

“Yeah,” Cora muttered, glare working between her mother and Stiles, “ _I_ decided this.”

Stiles opened his mouth to respond, but Cora was already stalking past him, heading towards the barn muttering curses under her breath, eyes shooting daggers at Stiles like it was all his fault. Stiles watched her retreating form for a moment, wondering what he had done to deserve this punishment from Talia.

“Good luck,” the older woman said with a small shake of her head before turning to walk back inside.

Stiles swallowed the lump in his throat, deciding that it was truly unfair he be left to deal with the wrath of Cora Hale all on his own. He moved around the house, fingers brushing through the patch of wildflowers that had stubbornly grown along the fence line, adding a beautiful pop of purple, yellow, and pink to the otherwise neatly trimmed peek of green.

_“These coneflowers are my favorite,” Claudia said as she leaned down, inhaling deeply, nose brushing against the soft petals. “They grow all along the preserve, but nowhere else in town.”_

Stiles paused, watching the coneflower dance in the wind. She had been right, of course, because he hadn’t seen a single coneflower after she died. He had thought that maybe they had died with her. Stiles worried his lip for a moment before moving on. Cora was waiting for him, leaning against the barn doors coolly, arms crossed over her chest. 

“Let’s get this over with,” Cora complained as she watched Stiles unlock the door, moving into the barn hesitantly after him.

Stiles smiled as the older chestnut horse neighed happily, moving closer to the gate, nudging its head against Stiles’ palm gently. He ran his hand up the side of her face, fingers brushing through the cream colored mane. 

“Hey, Arlo,” Stiles cooed softly, reaching for a treat in the small bag hanging on the nearest post. “Ready to go for a ride?”

Arlo huffed, taking the treat from Stiles’ hand greedily before butting her head against Stiles’ face, causing him to laugh as he reached up, petting her again. When he turned to face Cora again, he was startled to see how surprised she looked. Her arms had dropped to her side, dark eyes wide, lips parted, face soft. Stiles felt his cheeks going red for a moment.

“What?” he asked when she didn’t look away.

“It’s like she knows you,” Cora whispered, but she hadn’t moved from her spot.

Stiles felt his eyebrows shoot up, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. “It’s my job?” he answered. Did she forget he had been working there the past month?

“Yeah,” Cora said huffing in annoyance, “but it’s like she _knows you_ , knows you.”

His eyes shot to the ground as he began nervously fiddling with the hem of his plaid shirt, mouth suddenly going dry. “Well, I, uh,” Stiles started, as he shifted on his feet. “I don’t know if you remember, but my mom used to work here and she would sometimes go out on rides with your mom, cause they were friends, and this sort of used to be her horse.”

“Used to?”

It was so quiet, so sad that Stiles felt his gaze snap towards Cora, who was still looking directly at him. Stiles rubbed the back of his neck as he rolled the words around in his tongue. He didn’t really talk about his mom all that much because, even though it had been years since her passing, it still weighed heavily on him.

“Yeah,” Stiles finally said, “she died about nine years ago.”

Cora’s frown deepened. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” Stiles said quietly. He suddenly cleared his throat, not being able to take Cora’s intense gaze anymore. There was something about the Hales and their stupidly beautiful eyes that always seemed to burn right through Stiles’ soul. “So, how come you haven’t learned to ride yet?”

He began moving around the barn, filling up empty food baskets, putting fresh drinking water in buckets, and letting some of the horses out into the fenced pasture.

“I know Derek and Laura have been riding since they were six,” Stiles continued when Cora said nothing in return. “I’m surprised you’ve waited so long.”

He gave Laura’s horse, Lady, an affectionate pet before turning to the dark brown horse nibbling lazily at a stack of that hay he knew belonged to Cora. Nymeria turned, giving Stiles a once-over before returning to her food like he wasn't there. Stiles knew she was a little wilder than the other horse, but probably due to the fact that Cora never rode her. Stiles could see Cora out of the corner of his eye, standing just behind him, body tense.

“You okay?” he asked as she slowly came to stand by his side, eyes wide and fearful as she watched her horse wearily.

Cora swallowed. “I went riding with dad one time, when I was eight, and his horse got scared by a snake on the trail.”

Stiles frowned, watching her tremble slightly, and he hesitantly placed a hand on her shoulder. When she didn’t brush it off he gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I went flying into the air, broke my arm and everything,” Cora continued as she watched Nymeria move closer to the gate, tail flicking in interest behind her. 

“It’s okay to be afraid,” Stiles said, “getting back up after something like that is a big step.”

Cora was shaking her head. “It’s so stupid, I should have gotten over it years ago. Nymeria probably hates me!” she cried, taking a large step back.

“Cora,” Stiles chided gently, “everyone deals with trauma in a different way. It’s okay that you haven’t been on a horse since then, and if it really terrifies you, I won’t push it.” That made her pause, her weary and slightly scared gaze wandering over to where Stiles was standing. “But, maybe I can help you overcome it, if you let me.”

He held out his hand and waited. He could see Cora’s eyes darting between his palm and his face, but after a moment she placed her hand in his, exhaling deeply. Stiles smiled and gently moved her hand up so that her palm was resting in the space between herself and Nymeria. The horse neighed softly before pressing forward, head butting against her hand playfully. Stiles could see Cora’s lips curl up slightly as he helped guide her fingers down the horse’s neck.

“She missed you,” he said as he released her wrist, letting her brush through the dark mane fondly.

“I-I don’t think I’m ready to ride her, though,” Cora admitted, slightly panicked as her fingers tightened in the mane for a moment.

“Don’t worry,” Stiles assured as he gave Nymeria a treat for being calm, “you’re not going to be riding her for a while. You need to rebuild your bond.”

“How do I do that?” Cora asked.

Stiles held out a treat for her and Cora took it, giving it to the horse, who eagerly ate it out of her hand. Cora giggled as Nymeria’s tongue licked against her palm, looking for more.

“Just come out and visit her every day.” Stiles told her as he turned away, heading towards the wall where all of the saddles were stored. “Talk with her, pet her, maybe give her a treat every now and then.”

“I think I can do that,” Cora said warmly, a bigger smile on her lips now as she continued to pet her horse. “So, who will I be riding in the meantime?”

“Arlo,” Stiles replied as he placed the saddle over a rack he had dragged closer to Arlo’s area. “She’s a little older and a lot calmer. Perfect for first time riders or people who are nervous.”

Cora joined him in the stall, watching and patiently listening as Stiles showed her how to properly put the saddle on. He even unfastened things and had her come over and secure them so she could learn. He went over safety and reminded her to tell him if she ever felt uncomfortable or needed to stop. Stiles was no stranger to panic attacks, and while he felt like he would be able to help Cora if she started experiencing one, he would rather her not have one at all.

“Today, we’ll just have you climb onto Arlo and I’ll walk you through one loop of the pasture at a slow pace,” Stiles said as he gave the horse a light pat. “That sound okay?”

Cora nodded, but Stiles could see her tensing again.

“She’s a good horse,” Stiles said with a sad smile. “Trust me.”

“If I fall off, I swear to god, I will not hesitate to kill you,” Cora scowled, her face turning murderous, eyebrows furrowing in a way that reminded him so much of Derek he felt himself reeling slightly.

“You Hales and your eyebrows,” he blurted out.

Cora only gave him a curious glance before she sucked in a deep breath, climbing up the step stool Stiles had set out for her. He held out his hand to help her and she gripped it tightly as she swung her leg over the saddle, sitting down on it carefully. She still had a death grip on Stiles’ hand, her knuckles going white as she held onto the horn with her other hand.

“Cora,” Stiles said warmly, “you’re going to have to let go of my hand if I’m to lead Arlo out into the pasture.”

“Right,” Cora said as her fingers uncurled and quickly grabbed onto her other hand, eyes facing forward as she readied herself. “Okay, let’s do this.”

Stiles gave her an encouraging smile as he moved around, taking the reins in his hands, clicking his tongue so Arlo would follow along. The horse moved slowly next to him and he could hear Cora’s breath hitch in her throat. He chanced a glance at her, but she just nodded her head, helmet bobbing slightly at the movement.

“You’re doing great,” Stiles said as he continued down the barn and out into the open field.

There was already a soft pink and orange glow in the sky as they stepped into the sun. It warmed Stiles’ skin in the cool evening air. Just beyond the fence line, the dark green pines stood silently, with a mix of deciduous trees whose leaves were already changing into bright hues of reds, oranges and blazing yellows. The preserve looked beautiful in the fall, a mix of earthy colors that were chased away by cold winter nights. Stiles watched as some of the other horses trotted around the open area. He caught Grey Wind, Derek’s midnight black horse with bright, blue eyes, prancing around a bed of wildflowers happily.

_“Mom, do you think Arlo could beat Venus in a race?” Stiles asked excitedly as he looked up at his mother with wide eyes, fingers gripping the mane of the older horse tightly._

_Claudia chuckled as she pulled Arlo into a walk, pulling up beside Talia and Derek, who were riding on a grey and silver akhal-teke._

_“Always a competition with you boys,” Talia said as she raised an eyebrow at Derek’s feral grin._

_“Don’t worry, Stiles,” Derek teased, still grinning, “when I’m old enough to ride Grey Wind I’ll beat you in all the races.”_

_“As if, Sourwolf,” Stiles scoffed before sticking his tongue out at the boy, causing Derek to laugh._

Stiles blinked, Arlo nudging him in the back to keep him walking. Stiles hadn’t even realized he had stopped, his head up in the clouds as the memory faded. 

“Cora, are you doing okay?” he asked, realizing she had been silent this entire time.

“I’m fine.”

Stiles can hear a tightness in her voice, but she sounds more relaxed than when they started, which he takes as a good sign. The pasture is huge, but Stiles takes his time, guiding Arlo along the fence. He can see Peter just ahead, leaning against a post, watching with interest.

“Well, look who decided to give our dear stable boy a chance,” he smirked as he tipped his hat back, looking every bit the part of the handsome, rogue cowboy.

“Don’t you have some foggy wood path to creep?” Cora asked as she flipped him off, only getting a chuckle from the older man.

“Halloween is next month, my dear,” Peter said with a shrug as he followed them along, hands deep in his pockets. “Your mother sent me out to ask what pizza you two would like for dinner.”

Cora perked up in the saddle. “Pizza? Mom’s ordering pizza?”

“She said it was a celebration dinner for you getting on a horse,” Peter shrugged, like he was indifferent, but Stiles could see the genuine smile hiding there. “And of course you are welcome to join us, Stiles.”

“Oh,” Stiles said, cheeks flushing, “I don’t want to impose…”

“Nonsense,” Peter said with a wave of his hand, “once part of the family, always part of the family.”

Stiles didn’t know what to do with the weird ache in his chest as it twisted and coiled itself right around his heart. It had been a long time since he felt like he was part of the Hale family. Even now he was still on the outside with just a small view, a few stolen glances. He barely registered what Cora was saying and he just nodded his head in agreement, not really feeling hungry, but not wanting to deny them either. Peter threw him a curious glance, as if he could read Stiles. His brows furrowed slightly, lips turning down into a frown.

“There better not be any black olives on that pizza!” Stiles shouted, trying to regain his composure. 

They finished their lap and Cora looked more comfortable and was even smiling as she climbed down off of Arlo. She helped put the saddle away and stayed in the barn as Stiles cleaned up and made sure all of the horses were cared for. She let him babble about classes and in turn told him about her studies, how excited she was to be starting on the varsity volleyball team even though she was only a sophomore. Stiles could feel the iciness between them melt as they walked back towards the house together.

“Sorry I was such a dick to you,” Cora apologized as she pulled the kitchen’s back door open, letting Stiles walk in ahead of her.

“It’s fine,” Stiles dismissed with a shrug. In truth, she didn’t really owe him anything, but it was nice all the same.

Cora shook her head. “But it’s not. I took my frustration towards my mother out on you when I didn’t even know you. To make matters worse, you basically grew up here and I acted like you didn’t belong.”

_You’re not the only one._

Stiles shook the thought away. “Well, maybe we can work on being friends now,” he said instead, offering her a genuine smile. Cora being two years younger had usually been left behind in most of their adventures until she was a bit older, but even then, Stiles always saw more of Derek and Laura.

“I’d like that,” Cora grinned. 

Talia and Peter were waiting for them at the island, a couple of pizza boxes sitting on the counter that Stiles assumed would be for Derek when he got home. He enjoyed his evening eating pizza with the Hales. Talia told a few stories about Cora, causing her to flush red with embarrassment while Stiles and Peter howled with laughter. There was a warm feeling at the base of Stiles’ spine, something he hadn’t felt fully for a long time. It flickered when he was gathered around the table with his father, Melissa, and Scott, but it was never around for long. There was always a small piece of him missing.

“Stiles,” Talia said as she began to clean up the island, “I was wondering if you would be available tomorrow evening. I know you don’t typically work Fridays, but we’re throwing Laura a surprise birthday party and I could use an extra pair of hands. I can pay you an extra couple hundred bucks for the last minute notice.”

Stiles chewed on the crust of his pizza thoughtfully. He knew Kira was out of town with her parents for the weekend, Scott and Isaac had a date night planned, and his father would be working. The idea of sitting home alone on a Friday night made him feel kind of lonely, so working was better than playing video games in his room loud enough to drown out the deafening silence. Besides, maybe he would get to see Laura. He really missed her.

“Sure,” Stiles shrugged. The extra money didn’t hurt. He and Scott were saving up to buy their parents a nice weekend getaway for Christmas and this could definitely help seal the deal. 

“Excellent,” Talia said with a smile. “Laura will be pleased to see you as well!”

Stiles felt a slight blush fill his cheeks at the thought of one of the Hales missing him. Before he could respond, a group of shouting voices made him freeze in his seat. Derek and all of his friends stormed over the threshold, making a beeline for the pizza sitting on the counter. Derek was still in his practice clothes, hair messy with sweat, muscles bulging slightly underneath his grey under armour shirt, sleeves pushed back up to his elbows. He looked positively gorgeous, the corner of his lips pulled back into a smile, bunny teeth on full display as he laughed at something Erica said.

“I hope I bought enough pizza for the study session,” Talia chuckled as it disappeared onto five hungry teens’ plates.

“Stiles,” Lydia said, the first to catch him sitting at the island between Peter and Cora, “I’m surprised to see you here.”

The rest of the group fell silent as all of their eyes turned towards him. Stiles tried to keep his gaze firm with Lydia, but he could practically feel the grey-green of Derek’s eyes burning into him.

“Why is Stilinski in your house?” he heard Jackson whisper into Derek’s ear.

“Stiles works in the barn,” Talia said when Stiles hadn’t answered. “He is excellent with the horses and he’s a wonderful instructor.”

Stiles tried for a smile as he nodded his head. He could see Boyd and Erica eye him with interest, while Jackson had his favorite _reserved just for you_ glare on full display. Stiles chanced a glance to where Derek was standing and it nearly took his damn breath away. It was the same look - _the same fucking look_ \- Derek had given him in the hallway. Innocent curiosity, but swimming in the sea of grey-green was something deeper, something Stiles remembered from years past. It was like a question that had burnt out long ago, embers flickering with feeble hope, and only Stiles had the answer.

But Stiles had his own question, one that lived at the tip of his tongue, poised to fall over the cliff’s edge, casting him into the void below if it ever left his lips.

_Who am I to you?_

It was that feeling - like he was being seen by the only person he ever wanted to be seen by - that creeped its way up his spine. A quiet hum of electricity, tingling in his fingertips and it was stupidly like they were the only two people in the room. 

God, he really fucking hated Derek Hale sometimes.

“Stiles,” it was Lydia’s voice, breaking whatever was between them, and while it felt like it had lasted an eternity, it was mere seconds at best, “you should join us.”

“What?” Stiles asked, blinking. Derek was already looking away, laughing at something Boyd said, leaving Stiles wondering if the moment had been real at all. 

Lydia’s unimpressed stare never failed to make Stiles grin as she arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “We’re heading upstairs to study for the SAT. I think you should join us.”

One look at Jackson told Stiles he should very much _not_ join them. Sure, he got on well with Lydia and his friends had said Boyd was nice, but he didn’t really know them. Erica looked like she could probably rip out his throat with her teeth, but at least Jennifer wasn’t with them.

“Uh, maybe next time,” Stiles said with an apologetic smile. “Wouldn’t want Jackson to be distracted by this pretty face all evening, considering he needs to study the most.” 

The scowl on Jackson’s face was worth the comment and he figured he might pay for it later, but that was a Future Stiles problem. The rest of the group chuckled, though, so Stiles took that as a win. Erica looked less like she wanted to tear him apart and more like she wanted to eat him up. He couldn’t decide which look was scarier.

“Cute, Stilinski,” Jackson retorted with a fake smile that looked more like a sneer. 

Lydia sighed as she picked her books off the counter. “One day, Stiles. One day.”

Stiles watched them depart the kitchen. This time Derek didn’t look back. The warm flicker in his spine, the steady hum of spark, faded. And Stiles thought Lydia’s “one day” was a little bit closer to never.

* * *

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?”

Stiles chuckled as he pulled around back of the Hale mansion, putting the Jeep into park. His phone was nestled against his ear and he could practically feel the puppy dog eyes Scott was giving him.

“I’m sure, Scotty,” Stiles promised as he pulled at the collar of his pressed white shirt. “I think Isaac would murder me if I interrupted your uh, _movie time_.” He snickered, knowing that Scott’s cheeks were flushing a bright red at the comment. “Besides, I already said I would work and the money can go towards the vacation.”

“Ugh,” Scott groaned, “when did you become so responsible.”

“One of us had to,” Stiles snorted as he gently rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. He hoped Talia didn’t mind his casual attire, but really, he was just there to serve appetizers and remove empty glasses from tables.

“Okay, well, have fun, and I’ll see you tomorrow?” Scott asked, slightly distracted, the sound of Isaac’s voice ringing in the background.  
“I look forward to kicking yours _and_ Isaac’s ass in video games,” Stiles teased as he got out of the Jeep, moving towards the back entrance of the kitchens, which looked to be swarming with activity.

“Whatever,” Scott replied before saying a rushed goodbye.

Stiles laughed as he stuffed his phone in his pocket, heading inside. The mansion was a flurry of chaos as people moved to and from the kitchen, getting last minute details done for the party. Stiles was hoping to say hello to Laura before things got too crazy, but he was immediately put to work. The ballroom was a large, gorgeous space right near the back of the house. It was surrounded by tall windows that gave a view of the preserve and mountains in the distance. Hanging from the ceiling were a few four-tiered chandeliers that held at least a hundred candles, casting a beautiful, soft glow over the room. There were a couple dozen round wooden tables with matching chairs, decorated with vases of sunflowers and baby’s breath where guests were sitting. The other half of the ballroom was set up as a dance floor where a DJ was playing top hits for people to dance to. It was different from their typical fancy affairs where the rooms were packed with rich people in designer ball gowns and expensive suits. The crowd was much younger, most of them being Laura’s friends mixed with some extended family. Stiles quickly spotted Derek and his group around a table, laughing and looking absolutely stunning in their party outfits.

Stiles tried to steer clear of them as best he could. 

He grimaced as Jennifer’s shrill laughter pierced his ears. He turned, catching her leaning into Derek, hand on his shoulder. Stiles tilted his head to the side, his fingers absentmindedly reaching for the empty glasses on the table he was collecting. While Derek was smiling, he could see a tightness in his posture, leaning away from Jennifer so subtly that no one else would notice unless you were really looking. When he reached for his drink Stiles saw his smile falter before the glass pressed against his lips, his eyes darting around the room like he was looking for an escape. He wondered if the rest of his friends noticed. If they knew he was only putting on a show for Jennifer because somewhere along the way it had been suggested that they would be a good match.

Jennifer came from a wealthy family, her father a prominent businessman, and she seemed to be the type of girl who got everything she ever wanted. When she had set her eyes on Derek, it was like chasing after the top prize, one she would fight dirty - like hair-ripping, eye-gouging, _kick you when you’re down_ dirty - just to be the one to stand by his side. She was absolutely stunning, dark hair framing her pale face, sharp cheekbones, full lips and bright blue eyes that had all of the guys tripping over themselves to take her to homecoming or prom. Stiles knew it probably killed her to work this hard just to get Derek’s attention, or maybe she really liked the chase. Either way, Stiles slightly worried for Derek’s well-being when he eventually broke it to her that he just wasn’t that interested. Or maybe Derek would be forced into being with her because money married money, and sometimes you didn’t get a choice if it furthered your family’s opportunities. 

That made Stiles a little sad. He didn’t think Talia would make Derek marry anyone he didn’t want to, but he also remembered that Peter was deep in the closet, hiding his affairs behind a secret bookcase because disrupting the idea of the “perfect family” would be too much to bear. So maybe it wasn’t too far fetched. Maybe it didn’t pay to have it all. 

Derek was saved by Cora pulling him across the room where some family photos were being taken. Stiles took his chance to sweep in and clean up all of the glasses and plates on their table.

“Hi, Stiles,” Erica said with a shark toothed grin, tossing her blonde curls over her shoulders.

“Erica,” Stiles returned as he gave her an appreciative once over, “you’re looking radiant as always.”

Erica slapped Boyd’s chest with her hand, still grinning. “Did you hear that, babe? Stiles thinks I look radiant.”

Boyd just rolled his eyes, shaking his head, but gave Stiles a good-natured smile. It was different from the glares Jackson usually reserved for him whenever he occupied the same space as Lydia. Jennifer’s eyes snapped to him and he immediately felt uncomfortable under her piercing gaze, like she was trying to strip him down and take him apart. Like he was some sort of threat to her heart’s desire.

“You’re the one that can’t sit still in Mr. Harris’ class,” she said with a wicked smirk.

Stiles shrugged his shoulders as he continued to clean up the table. It wasn’t like his ADHD was a big secret and he wasn’t embarrassed by it. It was part of who he was. “And you’re the one that seems to be wearing Eau De Desperate whenever Derek is around,” he snarked back.

Jennifer looked terribly offended, mouth dropping open, but Erica started howling with laughter and even Boyd was trying to hold back a snicker. She glared at them, before turning her narrowed eyes, a deadly fire practically burning there, back on Stiles.

“I don’t think the Hales would appreciate one of their little low-life servants being so rude to their guest,” she responded through gritted teeth.

Stiles clutched his chest dramatically, mock offense filling his features. “Low life servant? I am middle tier at best!” Before he could stop himself he was winking in Erica’s direction, causing her to double over in laughter again.

“Would be a pity if Derek threw you out of here,” Jennifer snarled, pulling herself to her fullest height.

Stiles opened his mouth to retort, but he was cut off by another voice from behind them.

“Little Mischief, is that you?”

Stiles felt a smile break across his face as strong arms wrapped around his middle, dark hair falling across his shoulder, and a warm presence pressing against his neck. He leaned back into the touch, the flame at the base of his spine flickering to life as he wrapped his hands around Laura’s.

“Hey, Laura,” he said, smirking at the shocked expression on Jennifer’s face. Her plan to have Derek throw him out sinking down the drain as the guest of honor wrapped him in a tight hug. “Happy birthday!”

Laura released him so he could turn and hug her properly. She held onto him tightly, swaying a little in their embrace. Stiles inhaled deeply, scents of spices and vanilla that reminded him of better days. Laura had never forgotten. Laura had always reached out. Laura had been his missing link to his life with the Hales. He had really missed her. He placed his chin on her shoulder, catching Derek watching them curiously. Like he was seeing Stiles for the first time. Stiles barely had time to dwell on it as Laura pulled him back, grinning madly.

“Mom said there was a surprise walking around here!” she said, dark eyes sparkling. “You look so grown up, Little Mischief!”

“What did you call him?” Erica asked with interest.

Stiles felt his face heat, his tongue darting out to lick his lips nervously. Only a handful of people had called him that growing up and it was a nickname he didn’t like sharing, especially since his mother had died.

“Just a little nickname he had growing up,” Laura said smoothly, giving Stiles’ shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“You two know each other?” Jennifer asked, face pinched like she had just been sucking on a lemon. She immediately wrapped her arm around Derek’s as soon as he was close enough to reach.

“Stiles and I go way back,” Laura said proudly. “He, Derek, and I caused _so much_ trouble.”

All of their eyes turned towards Derek.

“You grew up with Stilinksi?” Jackson scoffed.

Stiles watched as Derek pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth, mulling over the question as if the wrong answer would be catastrophic. He wondered if the line they had walked together had always been paper thin.

“That was a long time ago,” Derek finally said, his face falling into its usual cool facade.

Stiles felt like he had been punched in the gut. Two worlds, right? Except, it had never really been two worlds at all. If they lived in two worlds, Stiles wouldn’t feel this unexplainable ache that ran deep in his bones. It had always been one world, with water slipping into the cracks, until there was an ocean between them. Stiles was always caught in the riptides, dragged out to sea where he was left to drown, sinking below the surface as Derek grew further and further out of his reach.

“Yeah,” Stiles agreed, forcing his lips to turn up in the corners, noting the slight crack in his voice, “long time ago.”

And it was there for the briefest of moments, the flash of something so deep, so painful, Stiles swore he was imagining it. Because how could Derek Hale look at him like _that_ when he was the one dealing the damage. 

“Stiles,” Laura said, grabbing his hand, “have you had any of the cake yet?”

Stiles silently thanked Laura for her intervention and he dramatically tossed his head over his shoulder, eyes catching the five tiered cake on the table behind him. Each layer looked to be a different flavor, but Stiles figured he’d only be allowed a piece if there were any leftovers at the end of the night.

“Not that one,” Laura said, pulling his attention back on her. “Come on, you’ll love this.”

She took his hand, leading him away from Derek and his friends, the terrible throbbing ache in his bones still radiating through his core. Laura’s hand felt warm and familiar in his own and he was vaguely reminded of the times when she would drag him and Derek around the house to do something incredibly reckless and fun. He followed without question, noticing all of the guest’s eyes watching them as they disappeared into the kitchen. The room was a flurry of activity, like it had been all night, but no one shooed them away as Laura pulled Stiles over to the marble countertop, a small round cake sitting on a glass stand. It was different than the large, overly decorated item out in the ballroom for the guest to marvel at. It was neatly frosted, with a sprinkle of what looked like brown sugar and cinnamon on top.

“It will never be _exactly_ the same, but she gave me the recipe before, well,” Laura trailed off for a moment, dark eyes filling with sadness, lips turning down into a frown, “and I still demand it every year for my birthday.”

Stiles felt his breath hitch in his throat as Laura grabbed a knife, easily slicing through the cake. He watched as a deep orange sponge, contrasting beautifully with the soft, white icing fell onto the blue and white china. He could smell cinnamon and cloves, practically tasting it on his tongue as Laura handed him the plate before cutting her own piece. He barely had time to take it all in before Laura was tugging on his hand again, leading him outside to where one of their wooden porch swings were set up by a giant bonfire pit. There was a small fire burning, casting a soft yellow and orange glow over the grass, illuminating the tall pines scattered behind them. Stiles stared down at the piece of cake on the fancy and surely super expensive china, his mouth suddenly going extremely dry.

“Laura…”

“I know,” Laura said, squeezing his hand, eyes still sad, “just trust me.”

Stiles nodded his head, reaching for the dessert fork resting against the plate. He dipped it into the delicate sponge, slowly bringing it to his lips. An explosion of pumpkin and spices tickled his tongue, tamed by the sweetness of the cream cheese frosting. Stiles savored the bite, rolling it around his mouth, letting every flavor, every taste drown his senses. It had been so long, _so long_ , since he had his mother’s famous pumpkin spice cake.

_“Laura!” Claudia laughed as she smacked the small hand away playfully. “It’s not ready yet!”_

_Stiles giggled as Laura crossed her arms over her chest, eyebrows pulling down grumpily, matching the scowl on her face. Stiles kicked his legs in the air, sitting at the edge of the counter as he mixed the batter carefully, sticking his tongue out at Laura._

_“None of that, Mischief,” Claudia said as she pointed a wooden spoon in his direction, “or else Derek is going to be the only one who gets to lick the spoon when we’re finished.”_

_Laura and Stiles cried out in protest as Derek smiled triumphantly from the stool he was standing on, puffing his chest out proudly._

After she died, Stiles could still smell cinnamon and clove lingering in the air, trapped like a ghost, destined to haunt the last two members of the Stilinski household. Melissa had taken Scott and Stiles to a bakery to get a treat once, but the warm spices had made bile rise in the back of Stiles’ throat, sending him into an embarrassingly long panic attack. He was far from panicking now, but he found his cheeks were wet and the cake melted into ash, nearly causing him to choke. He set the plate down, hastily wiping at his cheeks, his body trembling from holding back the sob that wanted to escape.

“I miss her too.” Laura’s voice was small, broken.

Stiles caught her dark eyes watching the flames lick the shadows of the dark sky, embers blinking like fireflies as they drifted into the distance. Claudia had taken care of Laura for most of her life. Hell, she’d known his mother longer than he had. It now made sense why Laura had always taken the time to offer him a smile, a hug, a sense of belonging. Because Laura was hurting too.

“Laura, come back inside so we can sing you happy birthday!” Someone called from the back door, waving happily, oblivious to the somber moment they had just interrupted.

“Coming!” Laura called back, quickly falling into her performative smile.

The Hales were good at that, performing for an audience. It was almost scary to see how well they could fool people, and even scarier that Stiles had the privilege of seeing the real them when no one else was looking. Laura pulled him into another hug and Stiles held on to her tightly, feeling a small weight lift from his shoulders as if she were helping him carry the burden of his grief.

“It’s so good to see you, Stiles,” she said, offering him a real smile. “Stay out here as long as you need and I’ll see you back inside.”

She gathered up her empty plate and headed into the house, leaving Stiles alone by the fire. He slowly reached out for the cake again, taking another small bite. It was good, really good. Stiles just wished it didn’t taste like sorrow.

* * *

There was something about the chilly morning breeze, the scent of damp earth mixed with fresh pine, that was grounding in a way that made it so the rest of the world didn’t feel real. It was here, in the quiet whispers of the forest, he could be free. There were no cameras waiting to catch a slip up, no watchful eyes of his family’s partners looking for a weakness to exploit, no friends trying to flesh out his dirty little secrets. There was no family to pester him for the truths he keeps hidden even from himself. It was just Derek and the forest. No one else ran out in the preserve in the early mornings, so he had it all to himself. With every step across the beaten path, he felt his shoulders relaxing, lips curling up in a smile that felt more genuine than the front he was accustomed to putting forth. The burning in his legs and lungs were a welcomed feeling as he increased his speed, shades of greens and browns becoming a blur. It was different from running on the lacrosse field or the basketball court. Here, the only eyes were the animals, and they didn’t pay him any mind. 

This morning he had opted to leave his phone on his nightstand, stomach twisting when he thought about the text messages that awaited him. He enjoyed hanging out with his friends, they were good people, but when Lydia Martin threw a house party at her parents’ lake house, it usually meant half the school would show up. Which meant Jennifer would be there. Which meant he would be forced into feigning interest because it was what was expected of him. Her father was friends with his father. Business partners, even. A “perfect match” he had overheard someone say at a party once. Derek would rather be single forever than end up marrying Jennifer. She was only mildly better than Kate, which was a completely different story. He only had another thirty minutes at best to come up with an excuse not to show up before his friends bullied him into coming. According to them, it wasn’t a party unless Derek Hale was there.

Derek slowed his pace, placing his hands on his knees, breathing in deeply. Usually he could get through it, grin and bear it for appearances. Normally it didn’t get under his skin, but something had changed. He’d always had a hold on his life, keeping himself balanced so he could be the perfect athlete, the perfect son, the perfect poster boy for every high school girl crush. He knew he was lucky, he had everything he could ever need, but not everything he could ever want. And, yeah, it was a selfish thought, but living a life under a microscope made him weirdly selfless, forcing him to give up the only things he ever truly wanted. It had been fine, because he could ignore it - had been ignoring it for a while now - but by some cruel twist of fate it was all shoved back into his face again. Something had changed.

And that something was Stiles.

He had lost Stiles. Years ago, Stiles’ family had been torn apart, and because the Hales had to move on with the times, they left the Stilinski family behind. No more days spent running around the preserve with Stiles and Laura. No more nights camped out in tents in the living room while Peter told them stories. No more seeing those bright amber eyes filled with mischief, lips always set in a smile that glowed like the moon in the dark of night. And when that summer had ended, it was like Stiles was a stranger, but Derek knew it had been their doing. So he did what his extended family told him, told Laura, told his mother and Peter to do: pick up and carry on. He and Stiles lived in two different worlds after all. Or, at least, that’s what Gerard had informed his mother over dinner one evening. It was bad form having someone who had gone mad working for such a well-known family. Time to focus on the Hales and their success in Beacon Hills.

_“Surround yourself with people that will help you succeed, son,” Gerard advised with a smile that didn’t really reach his calculating eyes._

_“But Stiles is my friend,” Derek said, frowning as he looked up at his mother. She was collected, features schooled into polite concern as she regarded her son._

_“Plenty of time for new friends,” Gerard carried on with a wave of his hands. “Better friends.”_

_“That’s bullshit!” Laura shouted as she quickly stood up, her chair clattering to the floor behind her._

_“Laura,” their father scolded, “sit down. This is not proper behavior for when guests are over.”_

_“I don’t want to lose Stiles!” Laura pleaded, tears in her eyes as she looked between their parents. “Not after losing—”_

_“Enough, Laura,” Talia snapped. “Either sit down or you can be excused for the rest of the evening.”_

_Derek watched as Laura threw her napkin down on the table before storming off up the stairs, her angry screams echoing in the empty halls. He wanted to follow her, to yell at his parents that he wouldn’t let go of Stiles either, but his father’s piercing gaze was burning a hole right through his chest. It kept him rooted to the spot. The only thing that made him feel worse was the disappointed look in Peter’s eyes before his uncle excused himself from the table for the rest of the night._

So he surrounded himself with people who were seen as successful. He hid away that small piece that he only allowed to be free when he passed Stiles in the hallway. His eyes would sweep over the boy, counting the moles dotting his skin, watching the way Stiles would pull his bottom lip in between his teeth when he was thinking deeply. It was only for a moment - _a second_ \- because it wasn’t allowed to be any longer than that. He’d hope the deep longing that he’d shoved down years ago would disappear, but it was always there, haunting Derek like a ghost.

He knew he only had to wait it out one more year before he graduated and never saw Stiles again. But, for some stupid reason, his mother had decided to hire Stiles to work on the ranch. He could still remember the pained expression on the boy’s face when Derek had told his friends that they had known each other a long time ago. It was clear in those honey-whiskey eyes just how lost he felt, like he thought Derek didn’t know who he was. Or worse, didn’t want to know. Stiles wore his heart on his sleeve, always so full of energy and emotion that Derek was jealous of how free he could be.

For a moment, his mask slipped. For a moment, he allowed all of his anger at the way things were and his heartbreak for the way he wished things could be drown him. It pulled him down into its depths, leaving him gasping for air when his years of putting on the facade snapped him back into place. It was for the best, right? Nothing could come of it. Not that Derek was even sure what he would want. He shook his head, steeling himself to head back to the house. If he was lucky, he could catch Stiles out in the pasture with the horses. He hadn’t come up with a proper excuse to back out of the party, but he could stall as long as possible. Not that it would prevent Jackson from driving to his house and picking him up without Derek’s permission. Jackson was just assertive like that.

Twenty minutes later he was back by the house, frowning when the pasture was empty. He sighed and headed to his room, passing his father, who was in deep conversation over the phone in his office. Derek rolled his eyes. It was the only room in the house the man ever seemed to occupy over the years. He only ate with the family when they had important guests over and more often than not he was out of town for business. Derek couldn’t remember the last time he had seen the man come to one of his games. His mother came to as many as she could and even Peter had been to a few, but his father was always busy. Although he was never too busy to criticize Derek if he wasn’t at his best, recounting the details from his mother. He groaned when he saw several new text messages lighting up his phone. There were some from his group text, one from Laura, and quite a few from Jennifer. 

_Jennifer: You’ll be at Lydia’s tonight, right?_

_Jennifer: It would be no fun without you :(_

_Jennifer: Don’t forget to wear your leather jacket, you look positively sexy in it ;)_

Derek grimaced as he threw his phone down on the bed before turning towards his bay window seat, collapsing on it dramatically. He closed his eyes, letting the breeze from the open window cool his warm skin. He had nearly fallen asleep when the sound of pounding hooves and a familiar laugh floated in with the wind. Derek sat up, leaning out the window to glance down at the pasture that was just across from him. He could see his horse, Grey Wind, bounding across the field, a dark contrast to the bright greens and fiery reds from the trees. He followed the horse’s movement, a smile curling against his lips as he watched Stiles guide it with practiced ease. Stiles pulled on the reins, slowing the horse to a walk. Derek watched as Peter pulled up next to him on his own horse, saying something Derek couldn’t hear, but apparently it was funny as Stiles threw his head back, laughing deeply. It was a wonderful sound, one that made Derek’s stomach flip. He didn’t know what to do with this feeling in his chest. It was like a quiet hum of _something_ that crackled pleasantly as he watched Stiles run a hand through his sweaty hair, chin dipping down for a moment, before his bright smile and honey-whiskey eyes turned up, finding Derek for a moment.

_“Derek,” Gerard said, placing a hand on his shoulder, “it’s better this way, you and Stiles live in two different worlds. It would have ended at some point.”_

_“But it doesn’t feel like it,” Derek_ _responded, his voice small. He was toying with the blue friendship bracelet Stiles had made him a couple of months ago. It felt more like years._

_“Come now, Derek,” his father said as he handed his son his bag, “you’re going to have fun at lacrosse camp. It’s the most prestigious camp in the country and will prepare you for high school. The Argents have run it for years.”_

And it was like something in him had snapped. He suddenly got up, his feet carrying him out of his room, phone still abandoned on the bed, and down the stairs. He was out the door, jogging across the front lawn to where Cora was leaning against the fence, watching her uncle and Stiles race around the field. Cora perked up a curious eyebrow as he placed his hands against the wood, leaning his weight into it.

“What do we owe the pleasure of seeing the golden child this morning?” Cora asked, smirking like the brat she was.

“If you haven’t noticed,” Derek snarked back, “that’s my horse he’s riding.”

Cora held up her hands in surrender as Stiles and Peter directed their horses to where they were standing. Derek felt his heart jump into his throat as Stiles neared, taking note of the boy’s muscles bulging beneath his green and blue flannel shirt. Despite his aversion to sports, Stiles had really filled out over the past year and Derek had taken notice. Stiles’ tongue darted out to lick his lips before he brought his thumb up, swiping it across his bottom lip. It was fucking mezmorizing and Derek gripped the fence tightly, knees feeling weak.

“Nephew,” Peter said, pulling his attention away from Stiles’ mouth, “good to see you out here.”

Derek huffed in annoyance. His family was acting like they never saw him! It wasn’t his fault he was constantly busy with school, sports, and maintaining a social life that was acceptable to the “Hale standards.” It was what was expected of him after all. Grey Wind nibbled his fingers playfully, causing Derek to chuckle as he reached up, running his fingers through the dark mane.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Stiles said as he leaned forward, giving the horse an affectionate pat, “he’s been a little restless and I felt like he needed to be taken out for a ride.”

“Not at all,” Derek replied, his throat tightening. It was the first time he had really talked to Stiles since they had bumped into each other in the hallway and even that was a few words at best, barely qualifying as a conversation. “I’ve been neglecting him.”

“You’re a busy man,” Stiles said with a shrug of his shoulders. “It’s a wonder you find the time to breathe.”

Derek tilted his head to the side, studying Stiles curiously for a moment. It was just an off-hand comment, a joke, but it couldn’t be closer to the truth. Sometimes Derek felt like he barely had time to catch his breath. His whole life seemed to be planned out for him and all he had to do was follow the instructions his father had carefully crafted, whether he wanted to or not. Ironically, the only time he felt like he could breathe was during his morning runs.

“Yeah,” Derek heard himself say, giving Stiles a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “thanks, I appreciate it.”

The smile he got in return was like the goddamn sun. How could he have forgotten what it was like to be on the receiving end of one of those smiles. Despite the chill in the air, Derek could feel a warmth spreading through his chest, radiating all the way to the tips of his toes.

“You should join us for a ride, sometime,” Cora suggested as she reached out to pet Peter’s horse, King.

Derek ripped his gaze away from Stiles to stare at Cora incredulously. “You’ve been riding?”

Cora’s cheeks flushed for a moment as she ducked her head. “Well, sort of. I’m working on it.”

“And you’re doing great,” Stiles reassured, giving her an encouraging nod of his head. “We’ll get you on the trails when you’re ready and not a moment sooner.”

Derek watched as Cora grinned, her face lighting up at Stiles’ praise. Cora had always been the rebellious child. While Laura had been outspoken, she had eventually been reigned in, but not Cora. Cora spoke her mind. Cora argued back. Cora was the brave one. While their mother had always tried to love them equally, it was clear their father didn’t shower Cora with much affection. She was yelled at more often than not. Seeing her look proud and happy made something in Derek’s chest swell. 

“I’m sure she’ll be riding circles around all of us soon,” Peter joked as he leaned forward on his horse, looking between Derek and Stiles with interest.

“I am counting the days until I can leave you in the dust, uncle Peter,” Cora teased.

“Yes, yes,” Peter said with an amused grin, which - Derek noted - turned slightly feral. “Derek we’re throwing a little bonfire tonight, you should join us.”

Derek could see Stiles stiffen out of the corner of his eye and he tried not to let it sting. He kept his eyes on Peter, who was still looking at him with polite interest. “We?”

“Stiles, a few of his friends, uncle Peter, and I,” Cora chirped happily. “Mom and dad are out of town this weekend.”

Derek furrowed his brows for a moment, wondering when Cora had started hanging around Stiles’ friends enough that she would invite them up to the mansion. He suddenly realized this could be his out. It was a family event after all, and his friends didn’t need to know that the only family that would be there were his youngest sister and uncle. They especially didn’t need to know Stiles would be there. Lydia seemed to like Stiles at the very least and Erica had stated her interest after Laura’s birthday. He knew Jackson disliked Stiles, but only because he hadn’t been very subtle about his crush on Lydia. Derek frowned, ignoring the small burn in his chest. It was fine. They didn’t have to know.

“Count me in,” Derek said with a small nod of his head. His gaze unintentionally went to Stiles, but for once the boy’s expression was unreadable. Stiles was always an evermoving ball of energy. He was constantly moving, constantly talking, laughing, making the most absurd facial expressions, just _so alive_. Derek wondered when he had learned to hide parts of who he was too. 

“Derek Hale missing a party thrown by Lydia Martin?” Stiles finally said, quipping an eyebrow.

Cora and Peter turned from Stiles to Derek, both with the same shit eating looks on their faces. Derek crossed his arms over his chest, scowling.

“And how did you know about it?” He asked, internally flinching at the harshness of his voice.

Stiles just rolled his eyes. “Lydia invited me.”

“Really?” Derek asked, his eyes widening, arms becoming a little slack. He hadn’t meant to sound so surprised and he knew it wouldn’t have changed anything. Jennifer would still hang over him. He would still have to keep his distance. He would still have to pretend like he didn’t care about Stiles Stilinski.

The smile Stiles wore now was a bit more plastic, fake. It was subtle, but Derek could see the differences.

“Lydia’s trying to rope me into study sessions, that’s all,” Stiles said. “Besides, I’m not sure who would throw me out first if I showed up, Jackson or Jennifer.”

“Jennifer can go fuck herself,” Cora said as she stuck out her tongue, face squishing in disgust.

Peter snorted in amusement and Derek could see Stiles biting down on his lip to stop himself from laughing. He wanted to agree, wanted to tell someone, _anyone_ , how he really felt about the “almost arrangement”, but he knew better. He had been taught to hold his tongue.

“Don’t let father hear you say that,” Derek muttered instead.

Cora dramatically threw herself against the fence, the back of her hand coming to her forehead like she was a distressed damsel. “Derek, how could you leave me alone at the party?” she mimicked in a high pitched voice.

“Knock it off, Cora,” Derek huffed as he shoved her.

Cora only cackled in return. “Please, I don’t know who’s more thirsty for you, Jennifer or Kate.”

“Kate,” Peter said darkly, “better keep her clawed hands away from you. She’s no better than Gerard.”

Derek threw his uncle a weary look. Peter had never hid his disdain for the eldest Argent, but he was close friends with his father and they were longtime business partners. Peter may have a position working in the Hale business, but didn’t have much of a say as far as clients and partners went. His father had threatened to cut Peter out years ago if his uncle didn’t learn to treat Gerard with respect when the older man was around. Kate, unfortunately, came with the territory. She was at least ten years older than Derek, and while she had never done anything inappropriate, Derek hadn’t missed the hungry way she looked at him since he was sixteen.

“If you don’t want me around, I can just go to the party,” Derek snapped.

Cora’s face immediately became serious as she reached out for him, squeezing his arm gently. “No, Derek, stay with us tonight.”

Derek sighed, trying not to give in too easily to the pleading look Cora was giving him. Soon he would be off to college, leaving her behind just like Laura. “Fine.”

“Good,” Cora grinned before she punched him playfully in the arm. “We’re making s’mores and no one can stop me from eating the entire bag of marshmallows.”

Derek laughed, his chin dipping to his chest for a moment before he looked up to catch Stiles watching him thoughtfully. There was something akin to sadness and understanding swimming in his eyes. It made Derek feel like he was naked. _Exposed_ . It was like Stiles was seeing him, the real him, which was just fucking impossible. It had been years, _years_ , since they had occupied the same space in this capacity. They had grown apart, become different people, and yet, in these few stolen moments between them, Derek could have sworn he was nine years old again. He was just a boy, running through the preserve, laughing, with his best friend by his side like the rest of the world didn’t matter and everything was just _right_. 

All too soon Stiles was looking away and it was like he hadn’t seen Derek at all. 

“Come on, Cora,” Stiles said as he pulled on Grey Wind, tugging him in the direction of the barn, “let’s get you on a horse.”

Derek watched him go as Cora excitedly skipped towards the barn. When he started to turn away he caught Peter looking at him again. This time his uncle's gaze wasn’t feral or all-knowing, it was just a little bit heartbroken. 

* * *

_J_ _ennifer: Are you sure you can’t come :(_

_Jennifer: I bet your parents wouldn’t care if you asked!_

_Jennifer: I’m wearing that red dress I know you like ;)_

Derek felt the weight of his phone in his hand like a brick. He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before tucking it away in his back pocket. He could respond later, say he was busy, and hadn’t seen the messages until he decided to text back. He wouldn’t be surprised if there were a few pictures queued up when he checked later. Jackson and Erica had bitched him out, but at least they accepted that he wasn’t free for the evening. He shook his head, forgetting Jennifer for as he grabbed another bag of marshmallows from the kitchen. 

Cora hadn’t been lying when she said she wanted to eat an entire bag on her own. Derek was surprised how much she could put away, but it was hard to resist Stiles’ famous Stilinski S’mores. Derek couldn’t help the small smile curling against his lips as the taste of chocolate and peanut butter still lingered on his tongue. It had been a long time.

_“Try this,” Claudia said as she unwrapped a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup. She placed it on a graham cracker, holding it out so Derek could carefully place his roasted marshmallow between the sandwich. She handed him the completed s’more and Derek eyed it suspiciously._

_“Trust us, Sourwolf,” Stiles managed to say while he chewed happily on his own. There was chocolate and melted marshmallow clinging to his lips, but he paid it no mind as he gave Derek a sticky thumbs up._

_Derek sighed before he took a bite. His eyes immediately went wide as he savored the sweetness, like it was the best thing he had ever eaten._

Derek hadn’t been sure what to expect during the bonfire. For once he was the outsider. Sure, he knew Isaac and Scott from lacrosse, he had his uncle and sister, and Stiles...but he sort of felt out of place. He found himself listening more than talking, watching more than participating. If Stiles’ friends thought it was weird for Derek to be there, they didn’t show it aside from the initial raised eyebrows when he had joined them by the fire. He marveled at how close the four of them were. He knew Scott and Isaac were dating, but neither of them were afraid to show their affection for Stiles or Kira. Whether it was an arm wrapped around a shoulder, a hand resting on a leg, a quick embrace, or a playful shove. They were open with each other, eyes crinkling in the corners with bright smiles. Derek enjoyed hanging out with his friends, he really did, but they were nothing like this. He, Jackson, and Boyd had celebratory hugs and pats during games, but that was often due to the high of adrenaline and endorphins from scoring a goal or winning the game. Most of the time they just separated into couples, giving off an air of superiority to everyone else around them. Like they were too cool to show their affection for each other. 

Hell, even in his own family rarely shared closeness like that. Laura was the only hugger in the family and Derek had never realized how much he loved it until he was wrapped in her tight embrace. Their father was very adamant about keeping up appearances. Apparently showing love and emotions was not “business appropriate.” It wasn’t that Derek hated being touched or shown affection in that way. In fact, he secretly craved it. With Jennifer, everything felt forced and wrong, his skin crawling when her fingers clenched around his bicep like someone would steal him away from her.

“Derek, hurry up!” Cora called, shaking him from his thoughts.

Derek gripped the bag of marshmallows and headed back outside. Peter was telling some dramatic scary story that had everyone entranced. Isaac was sitting on the ground between Scott’s legs as the latter ran his fingers through the blonde curls, eyes wide as he listened. Cora and Kira were seated next to each other, leaning forward in their seats and - Derek noted interestingly - Cora had somehow moved closer to the dark haired girl. That left the spot next to Stiles wide open and Derek quickly swallowed the lump in his throat before he passed the bag over to his sister. He sat down next to Stiles, their knees knocking together gently. Stiles didn’t pull away, too engrossed in Peter’s story, and Derek felt some sort of warmth spread through him as he pressed his leg a little closer to the boy.

“No one had been to the house since the fire,” Peter said in a dark voice, his bright blue eyes haunting in the firelight. “Only four bodies had been found, but there were five people who lived there. The youngest daughter was missing and no one could find her.”

“Don’t tell me you and mom actually went to the house!” Cora said, voice wavering slightly.

Peter grinned. “Talia and I weren’t afraid of a little ghost story, but we should have been. It was a dark night with no moon as we snuck out into the woods, just one flashlight between us.”

“Sounds like something Scott and Stiles would do,” Kira teased.

[Stiles](https://open.spotify.com/track/0qdMoqCqqmKo1V3NAuoWRM?si=GXAGkMSvTd-zpKC4so2w0Q) turned, sticking his tongue out at her, before he gave his attention back to Peter. Derek noticed Stiles was now slightly pressed against his side. Peter’s voice faded into the background as Derek’s entire body sighed. He felt his shoulders relaxing, throwing his arm behind Stiles, resting it against the back of the bench, allowing Stiles to inch closer against him. The fire crackled loudly, the smell of roasted marshmallow clinging to the chilly air as the stars shone brightly above. In the back of his mind, he could hear the pulsating music, see the flashing lights, and taste cheap beer burning down his throat. Jennifer was curled around his side smirking, trying to pull him into a dark corner to make out. Sometimes it felt like Derek was having an out of body experience and his life was passing by in a blur.

But this - _this moment_ \- felt so fucking real. Grounded. Derek felt grounded, anchored by the feel of Stiles against him. Derek was startled as he felt a hand grip his thigh, a chorus of gasped and terrified cries surrounding him and he instinctively leaned closer to Stiles, ready to protect him if needed. It wasn’t until he realized the screams had given way to laughter as Peter threw his head back, howling. Derek relaxed again before he realized Stiles was still gripping him tightly. Stiles seemed to notice as well, his eyes darting down to where his hand sat before quickly snapping back to Derek’s face.

“Sorry,” Stiles mumbled, quickly removing his hand, pulling away from Derek so there was a small space between them.

To Derek it felt like a fucking ocean or two.

“You’re fine,” Derek managed to get out, stopping himself from pulling closer. “Peter knows how to tell a good story.”

He could see Stiles’ lips tugging up in one corner, a half smile that was soft and beautiful. “Don’t ask him about the time he went camping in Yellowstone, because he had to ride—” Stiles began.

“Ride a bison bareback in nothing but a cowboy hat,” Derek finished, grinning now.

Peter would always tell them the most fascinating - and probably, _mostly_ untrue - stories during their camp out nights.

“Yeah,” Stiles said with a small nod of his head, a sparkle in his amber eyes, which looked more gold in the firelight, “always a good one.”

Derek felt a shift in the air, like something had cracked and crumbled, falling softly like the first snow of winter. It was the first brick of a wall that had been built over the past nine years and it was like Derek was breathing the fresh air for the first time in a long while. He felt Stiles’ knee press against his own again, that feeling of warmth, and comfort and something else he couldn’t quite name yet overtake him.

* * *

Derek didn’t expect anything to change, really. It wasn’t like they had instantly become best friends again, throwing away the past years of hurt and neglect. It was more of living in a moment of impossibility, because when reality set back in, Derek Hale was still the star athlete, son of the richest family in town, future face of the Hale business, and Stiles…

Stiles was still out of his reach. 

It didn’t stop Derek from looking, though, his head turning as they passed in the hallway, eyes gazing over the boy’s long lashes, fanning his amber eyes, moles splattered like constellations that Derek wanted to run his fingers over. It didn’t stop him from brushing behind Stiles in the library, hand ghosting against the small of the boy’s back as he moved down the section he had no business being in. It didn’t stop him from turning his head to find Stiles in the crowd when he scored a goal in a lacrosse game because he wanted to see that too big, too bright smile break across Stiles’ face. 

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he could feel his father’s disapproving look, because the things he was beginning to realize he wanted would never be good enough, would never be allowed. Derek laid in bed for hours on end, staring up at the ceiling, wondering when he had lost control of the choices he got to make. Laura got to choose who she wanted to be with. Father had deemed him acceptable and worthy of the Hale image because Jordan Parrish was a good-looking guy with a promising career as the future Sheriff once Stiles’ dad retired. She hadn’t constantly been thrust at the hungry eyes of rich daughters to find a suitable partner. It was all on Derek to carry on the family line, the family business, the family name.

_“Derek, have you met Jennifer?” his father asked as he dragged Derek over to the small cocktail table where a man his father’s age and a girl with dark hair and bright eyes was watching him with interest._

_“Hello, Jennifer,” Derek greeted politely. He’d rather be up in his room playing video games or hanging with Laura, but since he had turned fifteen, his father thought it was time he started meeting the “important people.” He had seen Jennifer around school, it was no secret she had liked him all of freshman year. She was fairly attractive, but Derek didn’t have any real interest in her. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”_

_“The pleasure is all mine,” Jennifer said as she shook his hand, her smile all teeth._

_“Her father is our second largest investor,” his father said proudly, patting Jennifer’s father on the shoulder, “and Jennifer is his only daughter who happens to be your age.”_

_Derek could feel the corners of his lips tightening. Jennifer wasn’t the first girl his father had introduced him to that night, but she was certainly the one he was putting the most effort into. It was his subtle way of telling Derek to get close to Jennifer, because maybe, she could be the one._

It had been a terrible feeling at the age of fifteen and Derek tried. He did. Jennifer became a part of their circle and he let himself get sucked in by her, making him her arm candy. Jennifer was clever, she knew exactly how to get what she wanted, but Derek just felt hollow and empty when they touched. He wondered if he should have grown used to the feeling by now.  
He didn’t sleep well, if at all. This made him extremely groggy and exhausted during their Saturday morning lacrosse matchup. Usually he was at his prime during games, focusing all of his concentration, all of his energy into winning, because that was what was expected, and he did like to ride the high of scoring. He was good at lacrosse, it was fun to play when he first started out, but now there was more pressure and the games felt less like fun and more like obligation. But, when he got going, he could still find enjoyment during the hunt for a win. Today was the exact opposite, though. His legs felt like lead, his lungs burning in the worst way possible.

“Hale,” Coach screamed from the sidelines as he was checked rather hard, giving up the ball to the other team. “Get your head in the game!”

Derek felt the cold ground beneath his damp back, wondering if they would just let him lie there for the rest of the game. There was no such luck as Boyd and Jackson hauled him to his feet, Jackson red in the face as he shoved at Derek a little harshly.

“What the hell are you doing,” he yelled angrily, pushing Derek again so that he stumbled into Boyd. “We’re losing this game!”

“Sorry,” Derek got out through gritted teeth, his hands balling into a tight fists, “just give me a goddamn minute, okay?” It wasn’t like he was the only person on the team, but everyone seemed to act like it.

“Come on, Jackson,” Boyd responded calmly, pulling the blonde away to reposition themselves on the field.

Derek shook his head as he took a deep breath, eyes scanning the quiet crowd for a face that wasn’t there. His mother and Cora were at the game this morning, but he knew Stiles was working back at the ranch. He could see Kira, Stiles’ friend, sitting next to Cora, chatting happily together, and Scott’s mom on the other side. He huffed out the air, knowing it was probably better for his concentration that Stiles wasn’t there. He could hear the whistle blow and he dove into action, determined to get them the win. The final crash to the ground hurt less than the sound of the whistle blowing, signalling the end of the game. He didn’t bother looking at the score, knowing it was his fault they had lost by one point. He had the shot and he just got taken out before he could properly set himself to make it. Now, he really wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole. That would be better than facing the disappointment of his teammates and Coach.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Scott assured him with an encouraging smile as he reached out his hand for Derek to take, “that was a cheap shot those assholes took at you. You totally would have scored.”

Derek looked at Scott for a moment, regarding his outstretched hand wearily before taking it. Scott was still smiling and Derek felt a little of the tension ease out of his shoulders when he wasn’t immediately met with a look of disappointment.

“Glad you think so,” Derek muttered.

Scott just shrugged his shoulders. “We lost, big deal, it happens. Isaac scored a goal today, so, small victories.”

“You’re damn right I did!” Isaac cheered as he wrapped his arm around Scott, a large grin on his face. “Stiles is going to be so mad he missed it.”

“I’m sure you’re going to retell him the story in full detail later tonight,” Scott teased with a roll of his eyes before he slung his arm around Isaac’s waist. “Good game, Captain,” Scott said as he punched Derek lightly in the shoulder before both boys started for the locker room.

Derek watched them laugh and joke with each other as they walked across the field. He wished he didn’t care so much about losing. He wished he didn’t feel the weight of it on his shoulders or the burning glares from the rest of the team. He wished he could be free to express himself like Scott and Isaac did. Derek wished for a lot of things.

He could take Coach yelling at them - _at him_ \- in the locker room. He could take Jackson giving him the silent treatment. He could take his mother’s sad smile when they met in the parking lot. He could take all of those things. What he couldn’t take was his father waiting for him at the dining table as they sat down to eat lunch together. It started out in silence, save for the sound of cutlery clinking against plates, even Cora didn’t say a word. Derek found he had little appetite despite burning a lot of energy over the past few hours. His mother was the first to break the quiet, clearing her throat loudly.

“We’ll have to send someone out to the farmers market soon, we’re almost out of fresh basil,” she said as a way to ease into the conversation.

Derek kept his eyes down, shuffling the food around his plate as Cora took their mother’s invitation to begin chatting. She was half way through talking about her history project when Derek heard his father sigh heavily, carefully placing his silverware down.

“Your coach called, Derek,” Michael Hale’s voice was clean, clear, sharp. “Said you seemed to have your head in the clouds today.”

Derek rolled his shoulders before forcing his head up, looking his father in the eyes like he was taught. “I was just tired today. Not my best game.”

He could see the small tick of anger in the man’s jaw. “You gave up a goal that could have tied the game.”

“I got checked by two guys my size, da—” Derek began, but his father raised a hand, making him fall silent.

“Derek, I don’t pay good money for you to attend elite lacrosse camps and training sessions to hear excuses such as _you’re tired_ and _you let two boys check you_.” Michael said as he folded his hands together, leaning forward in his seat. 

“Sorry,” Derek mumbled, his cheeks flushing.

“Sorry doesn’t win the game, son,” Michael continued. “Maybe taking away some of your privileges will remind you of that.”

Derek felt his teeth grinding together, knuckles turning white as he gripped his knife and fork in his hands. He knew he couldn’t lose it. That was one sure way to get him grounded until winter break.

“That’s not fair!” Cora said angrily. “Derek’s not the only person on the team!”

“Cora,” Talia warned, but Cora ignored her as she stood up, “your father is talking.”

Cora glared at Talia for a moment before turning her fiery gaze towards her father. “Maybe if Jackson _actually_ passed to Scott and Isaac - who are good by the way - then they would have won the game!”

Derek couldn’t help the smallest of smiles filling his face, watching his sister come to his defense. He needed to have her back more. He needed to stand up for her too.

“Young lady,” Michael said, his voice rising slightly, his piercing eyes moving in her direction, “sit down. Derek knows there are consequences for his actions, and maybe we should instil that lesson in you as well.”

Now Derek was standing up, his chair shoving back loudly. It reminded him of Laura from all those years ago, standing up to their father, to Gerard, because what they were asking wasn’t fair.

“Cora was just sticking up for me,” Derek snarled. He was suddenly angry. So angry. “And maybe if you came to one of my games you wouldn’t have to hear the details from Coach.”

He could see his mother’s jaw drop slightly and she quickly worked to control her expression as Cora grinned. Michael, however, remained impassive, and Derek could only tell how pissed off his father was by the way the man’s veins were straining against the skin of his hands. Derek couldn’t stand to look at him anymore. He pushed away from the table, his appetite completely gone.

“Derek get back here, right now,” Michael called.

Derek ignored him, feeling the desperate desire to escape. He knew his room was a safe space, but he found himself running outside, the pasture and the horse barn getting closer with every step he took. It was like something was calling him there, a soft, sweet hum that grew louder until he was slamming the barn door just behind him, back plastered against the wall. There was a startled yelp and the sound of something crashing to the floor. Derek’s head snapped in the direction of the noise and he was surprised to see Stiles sprawled out on the ground, covered in hay.

“Hi,” Derek said, slightly breathless.

“Uh, hi,” Stiles returned as he scrambled to his feet, brushing hay out of his hair. “Sorry, you kind of sort of totally scared me.”

Derek felt his mouth go dry as he watched Stiles hastily try to clean up the mess he had just made. He was still babbling, words shooting out a mile a minute, and Derek couldn’t understand a single word of it, but he didn’t interrupt the boy as he continued to just talk. He had forgotten how much of a talker Stiles could be. 

“So, can I help you with something?”

Derek blinked, not realizing Stiles was addressing him directly now. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Derek didn’t really know why he had come here in the first place, it just felt _right_ and there was no way Derek knew how to explain that.

“Are you okay?” Stiles asked as he sat the hay he had been cleaning up on the organized stack. He took a step towards Derek, the tips of his lips turning down into a small frown. “Rough game?” he asked when Derek remained silent.

“Something like that,” Derek finally mumbled.

Stiles wrinkled his nose. “I meant to ask for this morning off so I could go, but I forgot.” There was a small intake of breath as Stiles’ face did something funny before he shook his head, continuing, “I heard Isaac scored a goal. I’m sad I missed it.”

“I’d tell you all about it, but I don’t want to steal Isaac’s thunder,” Derek said as he relaxed against the door.

Stiles chuckled before his face became serious again, his eyes narrowing as he regarded Derek for a moment. “Listen,” Stiles said after a beat, “I know you’re usually accustomed to winning, but it seems like it’s more than just the game that’s upset you.”

“How can you tell?” Derek blurted out before he could stop himself. He knew he wasn’t putting his best face forward, but they were alone, and Derek didn’t want to pretend. Not in front of Stiles. Not really anymore.

Stiles shrugged his shoulders. “I’m just a people-person I guess.”

Derek could feel the weight of the words as they hung in the air. It was a safe answer, one that wouldn’t give too much away. Because Stiles was pretending just as much as Derek was that they didn’t grow up together. It would have hurt, but Derek knew Stiles was just protecting himself, considering how things ended last time. 

“My dad isn’t pleased with how the game went,” Derek said as he dropped his head to look at the ground. He could still feel the rush of adrenaline pumping through his veins from his face-off against his father. It felt good. It felt so fucking good to stand up to the man who asked for so much, but never gave anything in return. He was probably going to be forced into an apology later and he would be lucky if he got away without some sort of reprimand.

Stiles’ snort snapped his attention forward again.

“Didn’t realize your dad even went to games,” Stiles muttered and Derek could see that he almost looked mad on Derek’s behalf.

“He doesn’t,” Derek said softly, scrubbing his hand over his face. He didn’t know why he was telling Stiles any of this. He was just supposed to grin and bear it, after all. “Look, sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you—”

“Do you want to go for a ride?” Stiles asked, cutting him off.

Derek quirked a thick eyebrow. “What?”

“A ride,” Stiles said as he jerked his head in the direction of the horses. “It’s a nice day out and I know a pretty cool spot off one of the trails.”

Derek looked at Stiles for a moment. He could hear a voice that eerily sounded like his father and Gerard yelling that it was a bad idea, but it was nothing compared to the steady rhythm of his heart that was pounding out of his chest, like it wanted to lead him right into the boy standing across from him. 

“Aren’t you off?” Derek asked weakly, ignoring the pull.

“Yeah, but dad won’t be home until we head over to the McCall’s for dinner and I might bang my head against the wall if I have to look at any more SAT study questions,” Stiles rambled as he rocked on his heels, hands shoved into the pockets of his red hoodie. “I think I crammed an entire weekend worth of studying into last night.”

Derek could make out the dark circles under his eyes and he wondered how much sleep Stiles was getting. He knew that if his dad was working and he wasn’t seeing his friends until later that Stiles would be all alone. He probably had nine years worth of time being all alone.

“Yeah,” Derek said, following his heart before his mind could catch up, “let’s do it.”

Derek crossed his arms over his chest, tightening them when he felt a flutter of something as Stiles’ face broke out into his favorite smile. Derek let Stiles babble as they prepared the horses for the trip. It was pleasant hearing Stiles constantly talk about anything and everything. He never understood how people could be annoyed by it. Stiles always had something to say, but it was never without meaning, nor was it ever dull. When they set out for the trail, Stiles was still talking, pointing out various plants and trees along the way. It had been a while since Derek had rode Grey Wind, but his horse trotted happily behind Stiles, like he was glad to have Derek with him.

As they moved deeper into the preserve, Derek felt himself relax more and more. Sometimes he wondered if he belonged out here, amongst the trees and the wildflowers. Sometimes he wished he could just run off into the wild, like a wolf, roaming the hills, surviving on instinct and the bond of a pack. There hadn’t been wolves in Beacon Hills for a long while, but sometimes Derek swore he could hear a lonely howl, distant in the dead of night. He had been so focused on his own thoughts, he almost ran into Arlo and Stiles. He quickly pulled the reins on Grey Wind, stopping them just in time.

“Welcome to the secret oasis,” Stiles smiled as he gestured dramatically in front of him.

Derek looked around, a smile tugging at his lips as he recognized the place immediately. He could hear the sound of crashing water, his eyes trailing up the small waterfall that cascaded into the flowing pool below before melting into a creek that ran through the preserve. There were large rocks gathered on either side of the pool, with the afternoon sunlight pouring over them, offering the perfect place to sunbathe in the summertime. The surrounding grass was covered in fallen leaves, crunching beneath their horses' hooves as they directed them to an area to tie them off. 

“You remembered this place,” Derek said as he carefully dismounted his horse.

“How could I forget?” Stiles asked with a grin that quickly slipped from his face. Before Derek could ask about it, Stiles was clearing his throat. “It’s my favorite spot in the preserve. I used to come here all the time as a kid.”

Derek froze as he watched Stiles yawn, arms stretching just above his head, showing off a little sliver of soft skin. Derek swallowed the lump in his throat as he forced his eyes back on Stiles’ face. If Stiles did slip up and recognize part of their shared history, then he didn’t notice as he sat down in the grass by the edge of the water. Derek slowly sat down next to him, watching the boy skip rocks along the surface of the water. 

“My dad can be a lot too, sometimes,” Stiles offered after a few minutes of silence.

“Nothing like my dad,” Derek said as he drew his knees up to his chest, resting his chin against his arms. “It feels like the only reason he had kids was to carry on his legacy.”

Stiles paused. His hand was drawn back, nimble fingers wrapped around a smooth stone, ready to strike it against the glimmering pool of dark blue. “That’s awful,” he whispered before throwing the rock forward.

Derek watched it skip one, two, three, four times before it disappeared under the spray of the waterfall. “I shouldn’t complain,” he murmured, snapping back into the person he was taught to be. “It’s fine.”

Stiles dropped the next stone he had picked up, turning towards Derek with his beautiful honey-whiskey eyes. He swore they almost flashed gold in the sunlight, like there was some sort of fire blazing there.

“Derek,” Stiles said angrily, the fire in his eyes reflecting in his tone, “that’s not okay at all. You’re your own person. You have thoughts, feelings, and ideas that are yours, not what your father thinks they should be.”

Derek had always been told he needed to be the perfect son. He had always been told what the perfect son talked like, walked like, acted liked, loved like…

“Are you happy?”

The question was simple enough, but Derek was completely thrown off by it. Of course he was happy, right? He had everything he could ever want, how could he not be? It was selfish to think that he wasn’t happy, that he could want more.

“Sometimes,” Derek said before he could stop the honesty from spilling over the edge of his tongue.

“Sometimes,” Stiles hummed, his lips pressing together. 

Derek waited for Stiles to tell him off. He waited for Stiles to remind him that he lived in a big house, owned his own horse, was the most popular guy in school, and basically had a guarantee of acceptance to any school he wanted with a future in the family business. He waited for Stiles to tell him to suck it up and be grateful for what he had.

But, those words never came. Instead, he was surprised to see Stiles suddenly standing up, dragging his red hoodie over his head before casually throwing it on the ground. He watched as Stiles did the same with his shirt and he quickly averted his eyes as Stiles reached for his jeans.  
“What are you doing?” Derek asked, cheeks burning.

“We’re going for a swim,” Stiles announced and Derek could see him lay them next to his other discarded clothes.

“The water is freezing and the weather’s not exactly warm,” Derek pointed out, closing his eyes despite not looking in Stiles’ direction.

“Come on,” Derek could practically hear the grin in Stiles’ voice, “don’t be such a Sourwolf!”

[Derek](https://open.spotify.com/track/7sUJolVaoEBoP4l4qHiQSe?si=5C5eLpTWTTOEM5gj3o9sLA) was looking now, his eyes going impossibly wide as he watched Stiles slowly back into the water, still grinning. It was one of the first times Derek had really seen Stiles not wrapped up in several layers. Even in the summertime, the boy could be seen wearing a plaid button up over his shirt. Stiles was slim, but he had surprisingly defined muscles underneath it all. The constellation of moles were dotted along his torso, tracing down his hip bones and thighs. His milk-white skin seemed to glow even in the shaded rays of sun. He was soft, his long fingers ruffling his messy brown hair as he cocked an eyebrow, daring Derek to follow. Derek felt like he had never seen anyone more beautiful in his life.

_Derek felt a cold splash of water startle him from where he was sprawled on the sun soaked rocks. He nearly toppled into the water below before he quickly caught himself. He turned his murderous scowl towards Laura and Stiles who were doubling over with laughter as they splashed around in the shallow pool._

_“Not funny!” Derek called down to them, crossing his arms over his chest._

_“Don’t be such a Sourwolf!” Stiles teased, sticking his tongue out before he tackled an unsuspecting Laura into the water._

_“I’ll show you who’s a Sourwolf,” Derek grumbled as he quietly slid off of the rocks._

_He waited until Stiles was completely distracted by Laura before he made his move. He lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Stiles’ waist before pulling him under the shimmering blue-green surface. Derek felt Stiles’ hands grip his wrists, but when they broke the surface, Stiles was laughing._

Derek blinked, the memory of his younger self bleeding into the swirling pool at his feet. Stiles was still waiting, goosebumps running across his skin as he waded deeper into the water. Derek quickly pulled off his lacrosse jersey, making quick work with his clothes, leaving his boxers on as he followed Stiles in. The water was shockingly cold, like he had just stepped into a tub full of ice, but it made him feel alert, more aware of his body, _alive_. He could feel his fingers tingling, a small shiver running down his spine, but he pressed forward until the water came up to his shoulders.

“We’re going to get sick,” Derek said after a moment, the cold becoming slightly uncomfortable.

“I didn’t realize Derek Hale was afraid of a little cold water,” Stiles smirked as he sent a giant wave right for Derek.

“Stiles!” Derek spluttered as he stumbled backwards. Stiles was laughing now, head tossed back, long neck exposed as beads of water ran down his pale skin. Derek hated how much he wanted to trace their tracks with his tongue. “Think that’s funny?”

Stiles’ laughter immediately died on his lips, his pupils dilating as he began to backtrack, like he knew what Derek was thinking. His name barely escaped Stiles’ lips before Derek was wrapping his arms around the boy’s lanky frame, holding him tightly as he took them both underwater. Stiles held on to him, a gentle caress of fingers against the back of his hands. Derek could feel the boy against his chest, nearly weightless as they floated just below the surface. He could see the light dancing across the water, ebbing and flowing in a never ending cycle. There was a certain quietness that engulfed them as they held onto each other. Derek almost wished they could stay there forever, suspended in the memories and quiet.

Stiles tapped his fingers against Derek and he broke the surface, both of them gasping for air. Derek didn’t let go and Stiles didn’t pull away. He could feel Stiles’ chest heaving, his weight sagging against Derek, his messy, wet hair brushing against Derek’s cheek. After he had caught his breath Stiles began laughing, his too big, too bright smile filling his face and Derek swore it warmed him more than the sun. Derek laughed too, a little more hesitant, not as free, but it was real and genuine.

“We should probably be heading back soon,” Stiles said as he finally pulled himself from Derek’s grip.

“Yeah,” Derek agreed with a small nod of his head, his arms wrapping around himself, cheeks flushing, “probably.”

Derek watched Stiles head back to shore for a moment before he slowly sunk below the water again. He laid back, watching the light dance over him, but this time the quiet was too loud, deafening. He wondered if that’s what it would be like once Stiles was gone again. Once he was forced into the life that was chosen for him. Once he became the person he didn’t want to be.

Derek opened his mouth and screamed.

* * *

Later, when he was alone in his room, his mother would come by as he laid in bed. She told him his father was sorry and that he would try to make it to his next game. She said that his father loved him and just wanted what was best for him.

Except his father wasn’t at his next game or the one after that. But Derek didn’t care. Because Stiles was there.

* * *

Stiles could count the bubbles forming the hideously white popcorn ceiling of Scott’s room. He shifted slightly, the fleece blanket hardly providing any comfort against the wooden floor beneath it. His arms were growing sore from holding up flashcards that he had stopped looking at almost an hour ago. There was a quiet hum of activity around him - Isaac was playing music softly from his computer, Scott was tapping his foot from where he sat at his desk, and every few minutes he could hear the scratch of Kira’s pencil against paper.

**_Postulate_ ** _. Verb. To assert. To_ _suggest or assume the existence, fact, or truth of (something) as a basis for reasoning, discussion, or belief._

Stiles **postulates** that rekindling his friendship with Derek Hale will only end in heartbreak.

**_Pragmatic_ ** _. Adjective. Practical, useful. Dealing with things sensibly and realistically in a way that is based on practical rather than theoretical considerations._

Stiles should be **pragmatic** and go back to the way things were before someone got hurt. 

**_Preposterous._ ** _Adjective. Inviting ridicule. Contrary to reason or common sense; utterly absurd or ridiculous._

It was **preposterous** of Stiles to think they could be anything more than what they already were.

**_Propel_ ** _. Verb. Cause to move forward with force. Drive, push, or cause to move in a particular direction, typically forward._

Stiles knew they were on a collision course, one that would **propel** them into destruction.

“That’s it,” Kira said, standing up so violently that her notes went flying to the floor, “I can’t stand looking at these books anymore.”

“It is getting late,” Scott said with a yawn as he leaned back in his chair. “Mom said getting a good night's rest is just as important.”

“Thank god,” Isaac murmured as he slammed his computer shut, falling back onto Scott’s bed with a loud sigh.

Stiles slowly brought his notecards down, eyes still staring up at the ceiling. He could hear Kira beginning to gather her things together, tugging on her zipper as she got to her feet. 

“Okay, remember we have to be there by seven forty-five or else Harris is going to give us the stink eye,” she reminded them as she reached back and began to braid her hair lazily.

Stiles snorted. “I’ll be getting that no matter how early I arrive.”

“You’d think if they wanted us to do well,” Isaac said, popping an eye open, “they would make the test begin at an hour we’re actually awake for.”

“It’s just a few hours,” Kira said with a roll of her eyes. “Besides, we can go Halloween thrifting and grab coffee afterwards!”

This time Scott was the one to snort a laugh. “Yes, Halloween thrifting for all of the parties we are going to be invited to.”

Kira just shrugged her shoulders, undeterred by Scott’s lack of enthusiasm. “You never know. Besides, it will be fun.”

“I call dibs on the first ugly Halloween sweater we find,” Stiles added as he raised his hand in the air, earning a bright smile from his friend.

“That’s the spirit!” Kira cheered. “Now, I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

They all waved their goodbyes and the three remaining boys got ready for bed. It was Stiles’ turn to take the floor. He unrolled one of Scott’s old sleeping bags and laid down an extra blanket, hoping it would provide enough padding on the hard floor. At least he had his pillow. The light had barely been off for more than five minutes before Stiles could hear Scott’s soft snores and Isaac’s slow and even breaths. Stiles exhaled deeply, wishing it could be that easy for him to fall asleep. His mind was still running, the wheels still turning like having an off switch wasn’t even an option. He was nervous about the test, despite the amount of studying he had been doing the past few weeks. If he didn’t get a high score, he wouldn’t get a good scholarship. If he didn’t get a good scholarship, he wouldn’t be able to afford college. If he couldn’t afford college, he would be forced to give up his dream of getting out of Beacon Hills for good. If he was forced to remain in Beacon Hills forever while the rest of the world passed him by, then Stiles didn’t know what he would do.

[When](https://open.spotify.com/track/39Odj4vLKRarATkCA31gaW?si=d4C8Q6UgQyWGVeb8ZNjm7g) his panicked thoughts weren’t spiraling about his unpredictable future, they were focused on Derek. 

Derek. Derek. Derek.

He was doing the one thing he knew he shouldn’t have been. They had been friends a long time ago and Stiles couldn’t change that. He couldn’t take back the memories they shared or get rid of the feeling of something greater, something deeper, something he couldn’t quite name yet. He had maybe felt it years ago, but back then, it had been new and quiet. It made his fingertips tingle, his heart stutter and skip like it had suddenly discovered a new song to beat to. It made his cheeks ache in the best way possible from smiling too hard. It made him feel light, like he was floating on a cloud, soaring amongst the stars.

It was wonderful. It was dangerous.

It was something Stiles didn’t want to feel anymore. Not when he knew it couldn’t be. Sure, they had a moment in the water, suspended by something that existed neither here nor there. It was like they had slipped through a pocket of time and space, floating in a void where nothing else mattered. But Stiles was well acquainted with the real world. He wouldn’t be fooled again. It was fine when they were at the ranch, where no one else could see them. Derek had ventured out to talk to Stiles more, showing up at the barn after his morning runs, smiling and waving as Stiles took off in the evenings. Those were the times that Stiles felt like he had finally found the shore, clawing his way up the sharp rocks that led him to where Derek Hale was waiting. 

When they were at school, in public, and around his friends, it was like Stiles didn’t exist again. It was one thing to be seen with Cora, but Derek was on a completely different level than his own. One Stiles had no privilege of ever reaching. It was a reminder that he never really made it to shore. That he was still drifting further and further out to sea and he wondered how long he could keep his head above water before he drowned. 

It’d be easy if he could brush Derek off as the person he was trying so hard to be. The one his family, his father, had carefully crafted. It’d be easy if Stiles didn’t see. Couldn’t see. But it was Derek and Stiles saw Derek better than anyone. Sometimes he wished he didn’t, but sometimes he was glad he did.

Stiles didn’t take his eyes off of the popcorn ceiling, noting that the darkness didn’t make it any less ugly. He watched lights from passing cars brighten the room for a fleeting moment before they faded into nothing. He felt tired. So tired. But he couldn’t fall asleep. His bouts of insomnia had been steadily increasing, but he was too afraid to take anything to help him sleep. Harris had let him slide once with a detention and he didn’t want to test the man’s patience again. It was better to suffer through the day on four hours of sleep than get a zero on a test or homework assignment. So, Stiles laid on the floor, counting the shadows, tracing his fingers along the frayed edges of the sleeping bag until his mind finally let him fall into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

Stiles fiddled with the number two pencil that had been placed at the end of his desk, twisting it between his fingers to try and expel some of his nervous energy. He wasn’t the only one in the room that appeared to be anxious. Scott looked exceptionally pale as he sat perfectly straight in his seat. Isaac was flipping through flashcards, mouth moving over the words, while Kira looked over his shoulder, eyes rapidly scanning the piece of paper. Jackson was unusually quiet, not even bothering to glare in their direction while the rest of their group chatted nervously. Only Lydia looked completely at ease as she examined her perfectly manicured nails. Even Derek was slowly pacing back and forth in front of his desk, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

Stiles tried to ignore his movements, but his eyes kept wandering over to where Derek was. He could only imagine what score his father told him was acceptable and how much of disappointment Derek would feel like if he didn’t achieve his father’s ridiculous standards. He averted his gaze when he spotted Jennifer shooting daggers in his direction. She had been doing that a lot lately and Stiles found it to be more effective than the ones he received from Jackson. 

“I will be coming around to collect your phones now,” Mr. Harris said dully as he pulled a large box out from under his desk. 

Stiles pulled his phone from his pocket, startled when it started ringing loudly. He ignored Mr.Harris’ shout of his name as he recognized the number from the station. Stiles quickly got to his feet, his heart thumping in his chest as he answered.

“Hello?” he said, a little breathless, fear constricting his throat. He only ever got calls from the station when something bad happened.

“Stiles?” It sounded like Tara on the other line.

“Mr. Stilinski, please return to your seat and hand me your phone,” Harris demanded as he grabbed onto Stiles’ shoulder, trying to pull him back.

Stiles ripped himself from the older man’s grip as he stumbled out into the hallway. “Tara, what’s wrong? Is my dad okay?”

There was a small intake of breath on the other line and Stiles felt his stomach bottom out. He could feel his legs shaking, his knees becoming weak, and he leaned against the lockers for support.

“He’s okay,” Tara said and Stiles swallowed the sob that had almost burst from his lips, “he was in an incident this morning and he’s been taken to the hospital.”

Stiles would have completely collapsed to the ground - partially from relief and partially from fear - if not for the strong arms that had caught him. He looked up, expecting Scott, and when he locked eyes with a grey-green sea he nearly dropped the phone from his hand. He could hear Tara still talking on the other end of the line, but Stiles could barely understand a word of what she was saying as Derek held on to him. Stiles swore he felt a snap of electricity humming beneath his skin, his panicked and trembling body calming at the touch. Derek was giving him a look of concern, face soft, lips parted as if words of comfort were poised at the edge of his tongue. 

“I—” Stiles said as he swallowed the lump in his throat, reality suddenly crashing back on him, “I’ll be right there, Tara.”

“Stiles!”

Derek quickly released him, stepping back as Scott, Isaac, and Kira quickly filled his space. Scott eyed Derek suspiciously for a moment before he turned all of his attention on his best friend. He gripped Stiles’ shoulders, trying to get the boy to focus.

“What happened?” Isaac asked.

“My - my dad,” Stiles managed to get out, the fear and panic overtaking him once more, “he’s hurt, I have to go to the hospital.”

Scott’s eyes grew wide, Kira gasped, and Isaac was running a nervous hand through his blonde curls. Scott cleared his throat, shaking his head as if it would rid him of the worry he was now feeling.

“Okay, let’s get going,” Scott said, giving Stiles’ shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Mr. Stilinski and friends,” Mr. Harris called from the doorway clearly annoyed, “might I remind you that if you leave you will not get the opportunity to retake the test today.”

Isaac opened his mouth to retort, cheeks flushed red with anger, but Stiles stopped him. “It’s fine. I can go by myself.”

“Stiles…” Kira said, lips turning down into a frown.

“The more opportunities you get to take the test, the better your chances are of getting a high score,” Stiles argued. He was fine. His dad was fine. Everything was fine. He could manage a few hours on his own. 

“We’re not leaving you,” Scott bit back, sounding as though leaving Stiles would be the ultimate betrayal.

“I’ll be fine, Scotty,” Stiles reassured as he tried to offer his best smile, “come by after the test.”

Scott looked like he wanted to argue some more, but Harris was yelling at them again and Stiles wanted to get to the hospital as soon as possible. His friends threw him another reluctant glance before heading back towards the room. Kira and Isaac practically had to drag Scott away. 

“You too, Mr. Hale,” Mr. Harris said with an exasperated sigh.

Stiles was nearly down the hall when he paused, turning to see Derek still hovering at the edge of the classroom, eyes still wide with concern. He looked like he wanted to say something, _anything_ , but no words came out. It was unfair, really, for Derek to look at him like - like he cared. Like he saw. Like he…

Stiles watched as Derek closed his eyes, as if he were in pain before he turned, disappearing in the doorway. Stiles stood there, frozen, for a moment longer wondering if it had always been easy for Derek to take Stiles apart with just one look. 

* * *

Stiles hated the hospital. He knew no one really liked it, but for Stiles, it was the last place that held his mother’s waning memories before she succumbed to her sickness. The smell of bleach and sanitizer had been permanently etched in his nostrils, beeping heart monitors and rolling carts, a song he knew too well. The powder blue wall paper was still as faded and wretched looking as it had been nine years ago and the sunflower mural at the entrance made him feel sick. There was always a steady flow of noise and movement as he made his way down the hall, eyes peeled for Melissa McCall. He was wringing his shaking hands, counting his fingers to make sure it wasn’t all a terrible dream. That first waft of bleach nearly made him vomit in the entrance’s trash can. He made it to the elevator, muttering for someone to push the second floor button, before he leaned back against the cold metal walls, closing his eyes.

He barely registered the dim _ding_ that notified his floor before stumbling forward, hastily wiping at his eyes as he tried to keep his breathing even. His dad was fine. Tara had said he was fine. His dad was fine. Tara had said he was fine. It was the mantra he repeated over and over again because the alternative would be too much to bear. His father was all he had left of his broken family and Stiles didn’t think he could survive losing him.

Stiles looked around for Melissa, spotting her just across the hallway talking with another nurse. He started moving towards her, his heart pounding wildly in his chest again. He came to a sudden stop as he passed by a mother sitting with her child. She was running her fingers through his hair soothingly as he cradled a bandaged arm, fresh tears in his eyes.

“It’s okay, honey,” the mother whispered softly, “think of the very cool scar you’ll be able to show all of your friends.”

_“Does this mean we’re scar buddies?” Scott asked with excited eyes as he looked at the back of Stiles head where a large bandage covered a portion of his now buzzed cut head._

_“Yup,” Stiles grinned as he turned back around before sitting back down into the chair his mother had told him to wait in._

_He kicked his legs back and forth, spotting his mother just a few feet in front of them. She was leaning against the checkout desk, hand rubbing her temples, eyes closed in pain. Melissa was standing next to her, rubbing her back comfortingly._

_“It’s okay, Claudia, it happens,” Stiles heard Melissa say._

_Claudia shook her head, gritting her teeth. “I shouldn’t have fallen asleep. It’s my fault he got hurt.”_

_“You know our kids,” Melissa replied with a soft smile, “always getting into trouble.”_

_“I haven’t been sleeping well,” Claudia sniffed as she grabbed a tissue, wiping her nose, “and I just laid down for a moment.”_

_Stiles frowned, his body becoming stiff as he watched tears pooling in his mother’s eyes. It wasn’t her fault! He had been the one who thought he could slide down the banister railing like they do in the cartoons. Stiles hated to see her sad._

_“I should have been more aware, more—” Claudia paused, clutching the counter._

_Stiles somehow knew it was going to happen before it did. He jumped up from his seat, fear gripping his heart as Claudia’s eyes rolled in the back of her head before she dropped to the ground in Melissa’s arms._

_“Mom!”_

“Stiles?”

Stiles shook his head, quickly wiping at his eyes again. Melissa was gripping his arm, lips pressed together in a thin line as she checked over him and Stiles was sadly reminded of his own mother. He was so thankful to have Melissa in his life, and while she would never replace Claudia, Stiles loved her all the same. He was suddenly holding on to her like a lifeline, the panic at full force now.

“My dad—”

“He’s okay,” Melissa soothed, still holding onto him. “He was shot in the chest, but his vest stopped the bullet. He has a bruised rib and he’s suffered a mild concussion from his fall, but he’s okay.”

Stiles let go of a long, slow breath, before inhaling deeply. He could feel his lungs expanding 

like he was held underwater for hours on end, holding a singular breath to keep himself alive. The knots in his stomach loosened slightly as Melissa pulled him into a tight hug. His father had survived this time, but Stiles was seriously starting to wonder just how many more times the old man would get lucky.

“Shouldn’t you be taking the SAT?” she asked, pulling back.

“Tara called me right before it started,” Stiles explained, the test far from his mind, “and I left right away.”

“Stiles…” Melissa sighed.

“I can take it another day,” Stiles said with a shake of his head. Melissa looked like she wanted to argue, but Stiles quickly cut her off, “Can I see him?”

“He’s sleeping right now, but you can head inside,” she pointed to a room just down the hall. “I’ll be around in a few minutes.”

[Stiles](https://open.spotify.com/track/2d7LPtieXdIYzf7yHPooWd?si=WjciKUNuR0mzyX-1NvpTbw) gave her a weak smile before he took off to where his dad was. He could see his old man through the break in the faded white curtains, chest rising and falling in the steady rhythm of sleep. He quietly pushed open the door, taking a cautious step inside.

_“It’s okay, honey,” Claudia said as she waved him over from where she was propped up against the bed, looking pale and fragile._

Stiles shook his head, the image of his mother fading away. He took the chair next to the hospital bed. He reached out, giving his dad’s arm a gentle squeeze just to make sure he was real, to make sure he was okay. The older man mumbled something in his sleep, but didn’t wake. Stiles scrubbed his hand over his face, sagging in the chair. All of the adrenaline, all of the drive and focus to get to the hospital was suddenly gone, leaving him completely exhausted. He knew he told Melissa he could just retake the test, but he had just decreased his chances of getting the best possible score. He would just have to study harder to make up for it. The sound of the beeping monitors was a reminder that they would be receiving yet another hospital bill when his father was just barely affording to pay off his most recent one.

_“Are you sick?” Stiles asked, wide amber eyes watching his mother from a careful distance._

_Claudia just shook her head, smiling. “Just a little tired. Haven’t been eating as much as you and your father, but I promise I’m okay.”_

Maybe he could pick up more hours at the ranch? Just a day or two. The extra income could go to help paying the groceries to take some of the burden off of his dad. It meant he would have to shave some hours off of his already terrible sleep schedule, but it would just be until he got a decent score on the SAT. After that was done, he wouldn’t have to worry about hardcore studying until winter finals. 

_Claudia motioned for Stiles to join her on the bed and Stiles hesitantly complied. Once her arms were wrapped tightly around him he melted into her touch. Maybe she was going to be okay after all. She had to be. He’d one time seen Greenburg pass out in his science class because he forgot to eat breakfast and lunch. She had just forgotten to eat because she was sleeping. That was all. She was going to be okay._

_“When we get home I’m going to help dad make you the best dinner,” Stiles said with a smile as he hugged his mother._

_“You’ll have to let your father know which ones are the vegetables,” Claudia hummed as she ran her fingers through his hair, carefully avoiding the bandaged area._

_Stiles laughed, imagining his father cluelessly looking in the vegetable drawer. His laughter slowly died as he saw a grave look pass over his father’s face while he talked with the doctor._

He could make it work. He’d talk to Talia tomorrow about the extra hours. He stifled a yawn as he pulled his phone from his pocket to send an _all good_ text to his friends. He knew they wouldn’t get it until after the test was over, but it would hopefully stop them from rushing over in a frenzied panic like he had. He was surprised to see that he had an unread message waiting for him. He was even more surprised to see that it was from Derek. He and Derek had exchanged numbers a few weeks ago, but they never texted. His thumb hovered over Derek’s name for a moment, he could still feel the boy’s grip holding him up, like Derek had set Stiles on fire with just one touch. He swallowed the lump in his throat before opening the message.

_Derek: I hope everything is okay with your dad_

Stiles stared down at the words, reading them over and over again. It was just seven words and yet it somehow felt like the entire world. 

* * *

Stiles had thought it was a very bad idea for him to be put in charge of carrying any amount of priceless glassware, but he supposed it was better than carrying food. The last thing he needed to do was trip over his own feet and spill soup over Michael Hale’s undoubtedly expensive cream blazer. Talia had been kind enough to have him help out in the kitchens to earn some extra hours for the evening. His father had only stayed a day in the hospital, but Stiles knew that even a few hours could rack up a high price. Stiles found he didn’t mind helping serve the fancy dinner for the Hales and one of their clients. It was interesting to see the family on their “best behavior” as Cora had put it with a disgruntled face before she slipped out of the kitchens to take her spot at the table.

Apparently best behavior meant back straight, chin up, eyes forward, and mouth shut. Stiles thought they looked rather uncomfortable sitting that way, but their faces were schooled to be polite and interested in the conversation they were not allowed to participate in. It was mainly Michael and his client, Jennifer’s father Nathan, doing all of the talking with Peter chiming in every now and then. Jennifer, for her part, kept her hungry eyes on Derek the entire time. Stiles had half a mind to spill the deep orange soup down the front of her pale pink dress, but the consequences greatly outweighed the few seconds of satisfaction he would get. He may have disliked Jennifer a little less if she actually took the time to get to know Derek. All she seemed to care about was that he was the best looking guy in town and had a trust fund that could rival Bill Gates’ offspring. Stiles could see the appeal, of course, because all Jennifer had to do was smile and look pretty while Derek did all of the work. 

Derek deserved someone who viewed him as an equal. He deserved someone who made him happy and allowed him to be his true self. Not whoever this person sitting at the table was. It was like there was no spark in those grey-green eyes as they looked past the space between Jennifer and her father, focusing on the giant floral painting with little interest. Stiles could see a small tick in his jaw every now and then, how he forced a smile when he caught Jennifer looking at him. Cora was the least skilled in the Hale Poker Face as she rolled her eyes every time Jennifer giggled a little too loudly after Derek answered a question her father asked.

Stiles swore he saw Derek give him the faintest - and realest - of smiles when their eyes met for a moment while he was heading back towards the kitchen. His stomach did this weird flutter-thing and he nearly tripped over the door into the kitchen, which caused Cora to snort from her seat. At least he was able to make her smile as well.

“Michael,” Nathan said as Stiles carefully set a dessert dish in front of the man, “I hear you have an excellent stable hand helping out with the horses.”

Stiles froze for a second, but kept his eyes down. He quietly cleared his throat before moving on to setting a plate down in front of Jennifer who was looking at him with a smug expression. He really wished he would have dumped that soup on her now. 

“Yes,” Talia said with a proud smile. “Stiles has been working for us for almost two months now. Couldn’t have asked for a better worker.”

Stiles half smiled. He could hear the genuine praise in her voice. Sometimes he forgot that Talia loved his mother too. Whatever happened in the after seemed to come solely from Michael and his desire to keep up appearances.

“Jennifer has been begging me to take her out for a ride, but I haven’t had the time,” Nathan said as someone brought out a beautiful cake to slice up for dessert.

“I’m sure Derek would love to take her out for a ride,” Michael said with a cunning smile as he looked at his son, “and our stable hand can lead them down an appropriate trail for a first time rider.”

Stiles could see it. The small tick of anger in Derek’s jaw. He could see the way Derek hastily swallowed down any words of protest, the straightness in his posture faltering just a little bit. It was subtle, but it made Stiles’ heart ache in his chest.

“A brilliant idea, father,” Derek said, his voice a hollowed version of himself. “You know Lydia and Erica have been asking to go as well, maybe we can make it a group trip.”

Stiles could see Jennfier’s lips tighten, her eyes growing a little darker for a moment. “That sounds wonderful.”

“Stiles,” Derek said, turning to him, “would we be able to do a group trip this upcoming Sunday morning?”

“Of course,” Stiles nodded, feeling weird addressing Derek so formally, “sir.”

He could see Derek’s lips twitching into a smirk at Stiles’ tone when he said “sir”, but that only forced Stiles to bite down on his lip to keep himself from grinning. Michael and Nathan looked pleased before returning to business conversation, which meant Jennifer had no room to argue. It wasn’t until he was clearing away the dessert dishes that he realized he had agreed to take Derek and all of his friends out for a trip on the horses. He would have groaned at how miserable those few hours were going to be for him - because, surely Jennifer would make sure he was kept busy - but, he saw a small, private smile pass over Derek’s face as he looked down at his lap. Stiles felt some of the dread at spending an afternoon with people who barely tolerated him ease away. 

* * *

Stiles kept throwing glances out of the open barn doors, his attention being drawn by the sound of bright laughter warming the morning air. Stiles had been getting the horses ready for their trip when Derek stopped by, wanting to ride Grey Wind around the pasture before everyone arrived. Stiles felt strangely lucky to see Derek look so happy and carefree as he took his horse at full speed to the end of the fence line, turning just in time and pulling the animal into a gentle trot. It was one of those rare moments where all of the tension was drained out of Derek’s shoulders, his smile coming quicker, more natural. Stiles knew as soon as the others arrived he would put up those carefully constructed walls, close off the part of himself that craved to be free. Stiles sighed as he sat the saddle he had been prepping down, moving towards the doors, leaning against the opening.

_“I can keep working, Talia.”_

Stiles felt his attention moving from Derek to the two women leaning against the fence where the patch of wildflowers was growing. He could feel the summer breeze, smell the freshly mown grass and strawberries filling the air.

_“Claudia,” Talia said as she reached out, taking her friend’s hand and giving it a gentle squeeze, “you mixed up the lunches yesterday.”_

_“Mistakes happen—” Claudia began to argue._

_“You almost gave your own son a peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwich,” Talia scolded, “for god’s sake you know he’s allergic!”_

_Claudia closed her eyes, lips pressed in a firm line. Stiles could see her knuckles growing white as she gripped the wood. In her other hand, she was twisting the head of a purple coneflower, crushing it beneath her thumb and pointer finger._

_“I know,” she sniffled, “if it hadn’t been for Laura, I know, but I can still do this.”_

_“You need to rest,” Talia countered, “take time with your family before…”_

_“I know,” Stiles watched the petals tear beneath his mother’s strong grip, strips of purple falling like dead weight to the ground. “I just don’t want him to lose this.”_

Stiles blinked and the women were no longer standing there. Another ghost of the past. He could see the last couple of coneflowers still clinging to life, nestled in a sea of goldenrod. He could see Claudia reaching down, carefully plucking one, holding it in her hand like it was the only one left on earth. She stood up from her kneeling position, her honey eyes sparkling when she found Stiles leaning against the barn doors. She extended the flower out to him, but just as she did, Derek passed through the spot on his horse and she was gone. All that remained was the plucked flower lying on the ground where it was doomed to shrivel up and die in the cold, dark nights. 

“Stiles?” Derek asked.

Stiles tore his eyes away from the flower, looking up to see Derek staring at him curiously. Stiles offered his best smile.

“Showing off for when the others arrive?” he asked wryly.

Derek snorted. “Yes, because that’s exactly what I want to do, impress Jennifer.”

Stiles could see Derek’s own eyes widen as he realized what he had said out loud. Stiles cleared his throat, trying to put Derek at ease. “You could flip your hair in a different direction and I’m sure Jennifer would be impressed.”

Derek cocked an eyebrow, but Stiles could see him relaxing slightly. He reached down, giving Grey Wind an affection pet. “It’s what I was born to do, anyway - impress people.”

There was a bitterness to Derek’s tone and Stiles could taste it on his tongue. It didn’t take a genius to figure out how Michael liked to run the Hale household. Derek had even stated that he thought his father only had children to carry on the family line and run the business. It wasn’t a surprise that his children were being shown around to the clients and partners to solidify the image that they were a family you could trust. Invest in Hale. Believe in Hale. It appeared Stiles wasn’t the only one that had his childhood ripped away from him at such a young age.

“It must be exhausting,” Stiles said as Grey Wind nudged him in the shoulder, demanding a treat from the bag that sat at his waist, “always putting on a show for other people.”

Derek pressed his lips together as Stiles reached into the bag, offering the horse a treat before giving it a gentle pat. When Derek remained silent, Stiles took that as his cue to leave and finish preparing the horses for the others. Just as he turned his back he could have sworn he heard Derek whisper, “you have no idea.” Stiles cocked his head over his shoulder, but Derek was already taking Grey Wind back out into the pasture. He returned to what he was doing, Derek’s words repeating over and over again in his head.

_You have no idea._

But in reality, Stiles did. While he wasn’t forced to smile for cameras or pretend to be the perfect son, he knew what it was like to put on a show. He knew he was lucky. He could express himself more freely, be a little more clumsy, a little more carefree, but everyone had their secrets. His dad was constantly busy, it wasn’t easy raising a spastic loud mouth with ADHD on his own. After a while, Stiles had learned to keep his problems, his anxieties, and his fears to himself. He couldn’t burden his old man any more than he already had and Melissa and Scott took the brunt of his panic attacks. It was easier to appear to be fine, like he could handle anything thrown in his direction, than to crumble beneath a disapproving or pitied look. He’d gotten enough pity from everyone when his mother died. He didn’t want to ever see that look in people’s eyes ever again.

Derek’s friends arrived about fifteen minutes later and, sure enough, Derek was all - mostly fake - smiles. Stiles could see a few real ones, hear a genuine bark of a laugh when Erica or Boyd said something funny. He let Jennifer cuddle up next to him as Stiles went over safety rules and instructions for their ride. He was surprised how well Derek’s friends listened to him. Even Jackson was silent during Stiles’ lesson. Actually, Jackson looked slightly apprehensive at the horses as Stiles introduced them to the ones they would be riding for the day. He took pity on Jackson as he led him to a copper colored horse, giving the blonde a treat to feed it.

“Penny is one of the Hale’s more docile horses,” Stiles explained as Jackson hesitantly gave the horse her treat, “she’ll be a perfect match for you.”

“I’ll be fine, Stilinski,” Jackson growled, but there was no heat behind the words and Stiles could tell that Jackson looked a little relieved and maybe a bit grateful? Stiles wasn’t sure, but it was better than what he was used to.

“Derek, can’t I ride that one?” Jennifer pouted as she pointed to Arlo as she waited for Stiles to assign her a horse.

“Sorry,” Stiles said with a tight smile, trying not to sound too defensive, “that’s my horse.”

“It’s not your horse,” Jennifer said as she crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at Stiles for denying her something she wanted. “It belongs to the Hales.”

Stiles bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep him from saying something he would regret. He knew perfectly well the horses belonged to the Hale family, but Arlo had been the horse his mother rode when she worked here. It was the horse he had grown up with and learned to ride. It was his mother’s horse, his horse, just as much as it was the Hales. He took care of Arlo, loved Arlo, and Arlo loved him. He wasn’t about to let someone as spoiled and awful as Jennifer Blake ride him.

“Jennifer,” Derek said politely, turning towards her, his hand grazing against her waist, “why don’t you ride with me?”

Jennifer’s face immediately lit up as she squealed happily, pulling Derek into a tight hug. “What a great idea, Derek. I would love to.” 

As Derek led her towards his horse, Stiles could see the smug smile she threw in his direction. Stiles didn’t care about Jennifer though. Derek knew what Arlo meant to Stiles, there was no way he didn’t. He also knew Stiles wouldn’t be able to argue against someone that was considered a distinguished guest of the Hale family. So, he took the bullet. He offered Jennifer something worth more than taking Stiles’ horse. Nothing compared to wrapping her arms around Derek’s waist, marking her territory, and showing off what she believed to already be hers. It made Stiles’ stomach twist uncomfortably, but there was nothing he could do about it now. 

He helped everyone climb onto their horses, guiding them out to where the trail would begin. The sharp and bitter tang of blood snapped him out of his cold stare. He hadn’t realized how hard he had been watching Derek guide Grey Wind across the trail. Jennifer clung to his back, chin resting against his shoulder, her lips within inches of his ear. He could hear Derek laugh, a high pitched sound that was completely different from the deep, warm laughter that had escaped him when he was riding on his own. Stiles wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, ignoring the smear of crimson against his skin. He secured the barn doors before mounting Arlo and taking the lead down the trail. 

He let the group chatter with each other, but pointed out different plants and animals along the way to anyone who was listening. Boyd and Lydia seemed interested, their attention turning away from the conversation as they asked Stiles questions the deeper they got into the preserve. Stiles had never heard Boyd talk so much and he was beginning to like the guy more and more. They rode for about an hour before Stiles steered them to a wide area where there was a break in the trees. It gave them a wonderful overview of the valley with the rolling hills in the background. He had thought about taking them to the waterfall location for a second before quickly dismissing it. That was a special spot and he didn’t want to share it with anyone else besides Laura, Cora, or Derek. 

“Wow,” Erica said as she gracefully dismounted her horse with a helping hand from Boyd, “this is beautiful!” She quickly pulled her phone from her jacket pocket, eagerly snapping photos.

“I can’t believe it’s taken Derek this long to have us out for a ride,” Lydia said as she brushed her fingers through her horse's hair. 

“Truthfully, I haven’t ridden much since I was a kid,” Derek admitted with a small shrug of his shoulders. “If I wasn’t at camp for lacrosse, I was training for basketball or meeting people in my father’s business.”

Stiles remained apart from the group, leaning against an outpost Arlo was secured to. He was just here as their guide, not as their friend. He let them stretch their legs, take pictures, and walk around the area for a little while. Jennifer stuck to Derek’s side like glue, arms wound tightly around him. Stiles tried to ignore the strange burning in his chest as her dark, cherry lips pulled back into a grin, laughing too loudly at something Derek said. Luckily, a good distraction came in the form of Boyd, who had wandered over to ask Stiles more nature questions.

“How do you know so much?” Boyd asked with curious amusement after Stiles had identified three different conifer trees just based off of the shape of their pine needles.

“My mom was a huge nature person,” Stiles said with a shrug of his shoulder. “The only thing she loved more than studying nature was talking about it.”

_“[Look](https://open.spotify.com/track/34fJIXIKjz8tbUwzRiD4lj?si=e8fEb2G5TpeJL8H5LPY7XQ), Stiles,” Claudia whispered gently as she pulled down a branch of green to where Stiles could see it, “see how these needles are bundled in threes?” _ _  
__Stiles nodded his head, hands gripping the large pinecone he had picked up from the ground underneath the tree._

_“What else do you see?” Claudia asked as she wrapped and around Stiles’ waist, pulling him closer so he could get a better look._

_“These pinecones are fatter,” Stiles said as he held it up for his mother to see, “the other tree had long pinecones.”_

_Claudia smiled. “Very good observation, little Mischief.” She said as she ruffled his hair. “The pinecones on the Western White Pine are thinner and longer. Anything else?”_

_Stiles hummed to himself for a moment, fingers running over the pines held in his mother’s open palm. They were a beautiful grey-green color._

_“They remind me of Derek’s eyes,” Stiles said simply as he looked up at his mother, smiling._

_“Derek’s eyes?” Claudia asked with an amused expression._

_Stiles nodded eagerly. “Haven’t you ever noticed how pretty Derek’s eyes are, mom? They are grey and green, just like this tree.”_

_Claudia regarded her son for a moment, lips pressed together in thought. Stiles plucked a few needles from the branch before stuffing them into his pockets. Maybe he could show Derek when they returned to the mansion. His mother had called it Grey Pine, but Stiles was already thinking of naming it Derek’s Tree._

“Your mother sounds like a pretty cool woman,” Boyd said with a small smile.

Stiles’ answering smile was bittersweet as his fingers brushed over the grey-green pines from Derek’s Tree sitting in the palm of his hand. “Yeah,” he said softly, “she was.”

“Oh,” Boyd said with an uncomfortable clearing of his throat. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Stiles shook his head, letting the needles fall to the ground. “It’s okay, she passed away a while ago.”

“Doesn’t mean it hurts any less,” Boyd said, a look of understanding passing in his dark eyes. 

He reached out, giving Stiles’ shoulder a gentle squeeze. Stiles couldn’t help but be stunned by the boy in front of him. He knew Scott and Isaac said good things about Boyd, but now he could really see how different Boyd was than the others. Stiles gave him a small smile and a nod of his head.

“Stiles,” Lydia’s sharp voice said, cutting off their moment, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about my Halloween party coming up.”

“Halloween party?” Stiles asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Lydia said all business-like, “at my house as my parents are away for that weekend. You and your friends are invited.”

Stiles could already imagine how excited Kira would be, especially since they had just thrifted some pretty crafty costumes yesterday. They usually spent Halloween together, just the four of them, watching their favorite horror movies and passing out candy to trick-or-treaters. The party invitation had never really been extended to them before.

“Thanks,” Stiles said. “I’ll pass that on to them.”

“You better be there, Stiles,” Lydia threatened as she took a step forward, jabbing her finger into his chest.

“Lydia,” Jackson growled as he suddenly appeared beside her.

Lydia smacked Jackson in the arm giving him an unimpressed look. “Jackson, I can invite anyone I damn well please to my party,” she told him with a scoff. “Stiles is about as interested in me as Danny is interested in girls. Besides, he is my friend.”

That took both boys aback, but Stiles couldn’t help the small smile curling against his lips as Lydia turned back towards him with a pleased expression on her face. Maybe he should have taken her up on those study opportunities.

“Stiles,” Jennifer said in a fake-sweet voice as she dragged Derek over to where the group was gathered, “would you be a dear and take a picture of all of us with the hills in the background?”

Stiles gingerly took the phone in her outstretched hand, taking a few steps back as the group arranged themselves for the picture. He knew what Jennifer was doing. It was a way to push him out and tell him he didn’t belong no matter if Boyd talked with him or Lydia invited him to things. He would never be one of them. Stiles was okay with that. He didn’t need to be one of them. He was happy with his friends and his family. His eyes darted to Derek for a moment, chest tightening as Derek put on his performative smile, hiding his bunny teeth. Even though he knew he had everything he needed, he couldn’t help but feel like something was missing. 

The ride back to the ranch was mostly quiet as everyone took in the scenery around them.

“I think my mother has prepared lunch for us,” Derek said as he helped Jennifer down from the horse, “if you all want to head inside.”

The group chatted happily, thanking Stiles for the trip as they started for the door. Stiles waved Lydia, Erica, and Boyd a goodbye before he started working on taking all of the saddles off the horses. He had just turned towards Arlo when he noticed that Derek was hovering at the door, alone.

“Derek?” Stiles asked, hands gripping a leather strap as he began working.

“You can join us for lunch, if you want,” Derek said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s the least we can do since you took us out for the day.”

“It’s fine,” Stiles dismissed with a slight shrug of his shoulders as he continued working. “I have a few things to get done in here before I can head home.”

“Oh,” Derek said and Stiles swore he looked disappointed, his shoulders deflating slightly, “well, if you change your mind.”

Derek started to leave, but he paused in the open door, his back to Stiles. Stiles could see him clenching and unclenching his fists as he shifted on the balls of his feet. He suddenly turned, hand gripping the frame as he locked eyes with Stiles.

“You should come to Lydia’s party,” he said softly, like he only wanted Stiles to hear.

Stiles froze, watching Derek’s face carefully. It was soft, open, and a little bit cautious, like he was scared of being rejected even though he probably never had to worry about that ever in his life. Stiles swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Yeah?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Derek replied with a nod of his head. “It will be fun.” He rubbed his neck again. “And it’d be nice to see you there.”

“I’ll definitely think about it,” Stiles said seriously.

“Cool,” Derek nodded before he turned and left the barn.

Stiles watched him go before returning to his task at hand. Maybe the oceans between them were evaporating, hanging like rain clouds in the grey sky. Maybe they were getting closer to something they once had before. Or maybe it was just delaying the inevitable and the oncoming storm would result in a torrential downpour, pulling Stiles back out to sea. 

* * *

Derek felt like most of his life was passing by without him really noticing. The students in the hall were a blur as he walked by. Maybe people called his name, stared with hungry eyes, gave him a high-five because he was, according to all of them, the most popular guy in school. Everyone wanted to be Derek Hale or be _with_ Derek Hale - or at the very least sleep with Derek Hale. 

Except, sometimes, Derek Hale didn’t want to be Derek Hale anymore. Everyday almost felt like the same day since middle school. Yeah, he had some great memories, some good times with friends, but mostly it all ran together. It was like Derek could only catch instances of his life in blacks and greys. He went to school, he went to practice, he learned the business, he met the partners, he smiled for photos, he spoke only when spoken to in instances where his father was concerned. He followed the path without going astray.

Now, he felt like he had stumbled down, thrown off balance by a pair of haunting amber eyes that belonged to the boy whose hand was extended to help him up. He had been taught not to take it, not to see, because there were better people, better opportunities. But, when Derek let his fingers wrap around Stiles’ wrist to pull him back to his feet, he could see the hints of colors bleeding into the blacks, seeping into the greys. 

It felt like Stiles had literally tilted his world on its axis, but Derek was finding he didn’t mind too much. It was like taking that first deep breath after being held underwater for far too long. It was gasping, and heaving, and utterly life-saving. It was why Derek was finding himself spending more time in Stiles’ company when given the opportunity. It was why he was anxiously waiting for Stiles to walk through Lydia’s front door to attend a silly Halloween party. 

Every time he heard the doorbell chime or the sound of the lock clicking open, his line of sight immediately flew that direction. Every time he was a little more disappointed when it was just some random teen from school who Derek didn’t even know. He sighed, the cheap beer in his cup leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. At least Lydia had outdone herself this year. Pumpkins of all shapes and sizes scattered throughout the cobwebs and skeletons illuminated by the purple and black lights. Music thumped from the DJ booth, the dancefloor packed with underaged teenagers who were already buzzed from the alcohol. Most of the school had shown up, but Derek didn’t notice them. 

They were just blurs of blacks and greys.

He could hear Jennifer complaining that they didn’t coordinate their costumes for the third time that evening, but even she was lost in the dark sea, despite being practically attached to his hip. Derek felt like he was floating outside of his body, desperately searching for an anchor to grasp on to. He could see Jackson’s mouth moving, but he couldn’t hear the words. Couldn’t hear the laughs of his friends. Just the rush of blood pumping in his ears. He wanted to go outside, maybe get a taste of fresh air, but he wasn’t sure he would make it very far. Could he walk when he was floating?

“Hey!”

It was like a rubber band that had been stretched too thin snapping back into place. There it was, the familiar voice, the reach of the hand - like a lifeline, like a goddamn anchor - that Derek had been searching for. There were those haunting amber eyes accompanied by that too big, too bright smile. There was Stiles.

“Stiles,” Derek heard himself say as he moved towards the boy like he had somehow fallen into his gravity, “you made it.”

Stiles was dressed in a pair of loosely fitted black pants tucked into boots with a long, puffy-sleeved white shirt that had a surprisingly plunging neckline. Draped over his shoulders was a bright red cape, the hood resting just over the top of his messy brown hair. Derek couldn’t help but gaze at his pale skin, mouth growing dry as his eyes roamed up Stiles’ chest to his long neck that bared slightly as he tilted his head. The shiny blood-red fabric spilled across his back, making him look eerily gorgeous in the flashing party lights.

“Little Red Riding Hood?” Derek asked as he cocked an eyebrow, his lips curling up in amusement as he noted the basket in Stiles’ hand.

“My, what big glasses you have,” Stiles said in a high-pitched voice, “the better to hide your secret identity, Mr. Clark Kent?”

Derek laughed, his tongue running across his teeth as he continued to stare in wonder at the boy in front of him. “I think you’re the first person to actually get what my costume is.”

“Really?” Stiles asked, dropping the act. He looked mildly offended. “The glasses and the peak of the superman logo should be a dead giveaway. Do you party with heathens?”

Derek chuckled. “At least someone got it.”

“You know,” Stiles said as he looked at Derek thoughtfully, “I’m not really surprised by your costume choice.”

“You’re not surprised I secretly like comics and superheroes?” Derek asked with a snort.

Stiles shook his head. “No, it’s just that Clark Kent and Superman are two different people, right? I mean they’re the same person to the audience - and Lois Lane - but to the people in his universe, his world, they’re different.”

Derek had always known Stiles was a talker, but he never realized how much he enjoyed listening. He nodded his head to show that he was following along and listening, really listening to what Stiles had to say.

“And?” he asked. There was always a point. Stiles may say a lot, but if one paid attention, they would know it was never nonsense.

“Sometimes it seems like you’re both Clark Kent and Superman,” Stiles continued, “but no one knows it’s the same person. You give all of them,” he gestured towards Derek’s friends, “and your father Clark Kent, but who gets to see Superman?”

Derek felt his jaw drop slightly, stunned by what Stiles had said. It was easy, so easy for Stiles to see him. How the fuck was it so easy? No one else saw, no one else cared. They took Derek at surface level, accepting what he gave them, but Stiles…

Stiles saw. Stiles saw when no one else was looking. Stiles had always known who Derek really was.

Before he could properly respond, Lydia was dragging Stiles over to the refreshment table, smiling happily as she went on about what there was to eat and drink. Derek felt frozen, watching the bright red cape trail behind the pair. He could feel Jennifer at his side, but he was already turning to follow Stiles and Lydia across the room. He could see Scott, Kira, and Isaac chatting with Boyd and Erica. Derek felt like he had fallen into some sort of alternate universe for a moment, watching both groups collide. His father - and Gerard - would have believed it to be a natural disaster, but Derek thought it was just natural. And right.

“Stiles!” Erica called with a grin as she pulled him into a hug. “Love the costume.”

“Thanks,” Stiles smiled. “You look great, Catwoman.”

Erica winked, mimicking claws before she reached out and grabbed a sandwich cookie from the table. “You have to try these strawberry jam cookies Boyd made, they’re delicious.”

“He’s allergic to strawberries,” Derek blurted out before he could stop himself. 

All eyes turned towards him and he felt his cheeks flush, ducking his head as Stiles threw him a curious look.

“Big guy is right,” Stiles said with a sheepish smile as he pulled his gaze away from Derek, “all things strawberry are a no-go for me.”

“I’ll have to use cherry or raspberry jam next time, then,” Boyd told him apologetically.

“Much appreciated,” Stiles said as he patted Boyd on the arm.

Derek couldn’t tell whose penetrating look was burning into him more, Jennifer's or Scott’s. He chose to look down into his half-empty solo cup, swishing the warming brown liquid around while the rest of the group fell into light conversation. Jennifer attempted to drag him away a few times so they could be alone, but Derek came up with excuses to get a new drink or to check on something for Lydia, always bringing him back to Stiles. After an hour, she had given up and Derek had caught her making out with some random guy in an attempt to make him jealous - he assumed - but Derek could care less. He had somehow managed to find Stiles alone and the two had started engaging in a conversation.

Derek felt his cheeks hurting from how much he was smiling. Stiles was just so lively, so full of energy, even when he was tired and - Derek noted - he always looked tired. Derek wondered if he was sleeping and getting enough to eat. Derek had remembered Stiles being a bottomless pit when they were younger. That boy could eat anything and everything, but Derek had noticed Stiles never ate while he was working and he barely ate lunch while they were at school. He tried not to worry, Stiles could take care of himself, but there was a small pit in his stomach nonetheless. He tried not to think about it as he listened to Stiles talk. He was telling some story, using his hands to accentuate his point. His eyes were bright, tongue darting out to lick his lips every few minutes. It wasn’t until Stiles’ fourth swipe of tongue over his bottom lip did Derek realize how badly he wanted to chase it with his own tongue.

[The](https://open.spotify.com/track/28GTdx9aoBF7b5651zVwUE?si=abTfw3tpTH-TAzyNbX29fA) realization was earth shattering, breaking Derek into a thousand pieces. He thought it was a miracle that he was still standing. He wanted to kiss Stiles Stilinski. The music changed. The soft, smooth ballad of _Yoko Ono_ floating across the dance floor, falling in time with the flashing, colored lights and he wanted to kiss Stiles Stilinski. The boy was still talking, purple and black ghosts gliding across his beautiful face and _oh god oh fuck_ Derek Hale wanted to kiss Stiles Stilinski. He wanted to feel those soft lips against his own. He wanted to feel the fire burning in the base of his spine consume him as those wondrous hands moved across his skin searching, touching, _feeling_ every part of Derek like he was something to be discovered. He wanted to suck and bite Stiles’ skin, marking it up with his own shades of purples and blacks. He wanted them to know, wanted Stiles to know…

“Stiles,” Kira said as she grabbed her friend’s hand, “I love this song will you please come dance with me?”

“Of course,” Stiles said easily as he placed his drink down, letting Kira guide him across the room to the dance floor. “I’ll see you later,” he called to Derek with a smile.

Derek watched him go, leaning against the archway. Stiles spun Kira before he placed his hands against her waist, swaying both of them in time to the music. Derek bit the inside of his cheek, jealous of the way Kira casually wrapped her arms around Stiles’ neck. It wasn’t anything romantic, but their closeness was something Derek craved. He wanted to be the one pulling Stiles closer, feel the rush of heat as they danced, bodies pressed against each other, lips meeting in sweet anticipation. There was nothing stopping him. Nothing holding him back from closing that distance between them. Nothing preventing him from taking the only thing he ever truly wanted.

Derek was moving without thinking, without caring who saw. It was there, that too big, too bright smile and _fuck_ maybe he should have turned back, but it was too late and he’d once again let himself be pulled into Stiles’ gravity. It was like a one way ticket heading straight for the edge of a cliff, but if Derek didn’t take the plunge, if he didn’t jump, then he would be stuck looking into the depths below wondering if it had been worth the risk. 

So, this was Derek Hale jumping to meet Stiles Stilinski. 

This was Derek pulling Stiles into his arms, only feeling the gut-wrenching sensation of panic, and fear, and something that tasted a little bit like rejection as he watched those honey-whiskey eyes widen in surprise. But, Stiles didn’t pull away and suddenly they were kissing and Stiles’ fingers were tangling in Derek’s hair, pulling him closer and Derek wanted to sob because it just felt so goddamn freeing. More, more, Stiles was demanding so much _more_ and Derek wanted to give it to him, give him everything, because Derek hadn’t realized that he was starving, lungs deprived of oxygen until his mouth was moving hot and needy against Stiles’ own and—

“Derek, there you are!”

Derek blinked. He was still leaning against the archway and Stiles was still dancing across the room, but they might as well have been miles apart because Derek hadn’t jumped. The devastating reality was that there were so many things stopping Derek from taking that plunge. He couldn’t have Stiles no matter how much he wanted him. He couldn’t have Stiles because it wouldn't make for a proper image. He couldn’t have Stiles because his father wouldn’t approve. He couldn’t have Stiles because he was essentially already promised to Jennifer. He couldn’t have Stiles because they lived in two different worlds. 

But, deep down, Derek really knew. He couldn’t have Stiles because Derek Hale was a goddamn coward.

* * *

Derek felt like he couldn’t sleep. His thoughts kept circling back to the Halloween party, to Stiles dancing under the black and purple lights, to how badly Derek wanted to kiss him. To how he didn’t act on it. It was getting harder to put on the act - to pretend - especially around Jennifer. He could usually tolerate her, her hands wrapping around his arms a necessary evil, one he could deal with. Now, when she touched him, he felt his skin crawl, body tensing like it was prepared to run. 

But he couldn’t be with Stiles.

Hell, he didn’t even know if Stiles would want to be with him. Not that it mattered. But maybe it did. Maybe if Derek could just _know_ how Stiles felt, how he saw Derek, then it would be enough. Just enough to get him through the year and past the summer until they were out of each other’s lives. Or maybe if Derek knew the truth, if he knew that Stiles didn’t feel the same way, then he could just be done with the whole thing. 

Derek couldn’t tell if he was more afraid of Stiles rejecting him or feeling the same way in return. 

The smart thing would have been for Derek to distance himself from the boy as soon as he completely realized his blasphemous feelings. Because it _didn’t_ matter what Stiles thought because it _wasn’t_ allowed to happen. So, Derek should have done what he was told to do nine years ago and cut ties with Stiles. Go back to pretending like he didn’t exist, like their time spent together didn’t happen, didn’t matter. But, every time Derek had thought about doing that, he felt sick. Like stomach twisting, head spinning, overheating, going to absolutely lose it sick. 

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t do it. _He couldn’t fucking do it_.

“Derek,” his mother called as he reached the bottom of the stairs, “come over and say hello to our guest for the weekend.”

Derek had been on his way outside to catch Stiles before he left for the evening. He had decided he would allow himself five minutes to spend with the boy. Five minutes. It was enough time to make him feel like he wasn’t going crazy, to satisfy that craving - that itch beneath his skin - but just shy of tempting him to try anything crazy. Anything wrong. He fought the twitch in his lips as he turned away from the front door, heading towards the parlor where his mother was waiting with the expensive tea set sitting on the coffee table.

“Derek, my boy,” Gerard Argent said with a smile that resembled that of a snake about to devour its prey, “it’s been a long while since I’ve seen you.”

Derek gave Gerard his polite smile, reaching out and shaking the older man’s hand briefly. He could see his mother’s tight expression as she sat on the couch, legs crossed over one another, hands clasped over her knee a little too aggressively.

“Mr. Argent.” Derek said with a nod. He was hoping this wouldn’t take long. He didn’t want to miss out on his time, but he knew he couldn’t just leave with his father’s longest and most important partner sitting in their parlor.

“Please,” Gerard said with a laugh as he reached for his cup, taking a long slip, “I believe you are old enough to call me Gerard now.”

“I didn’t realize you were in town, Gerard,” Derek said as he looked between his mother and Gerard. His father must have been in a meeting, otherwise his mother wouldn’t have been entertaining Gerard on her own. He knew she didn’t particularly like the man, but she was better at disguising it than Peter was.

“Just for the weekend,” Gerard said with a wave of his hand. “Some important business things came up. I heard you have a state championship game this weekend.”

“Saturday evening,” Derek confirmed. He’d been trying not to think about the game all week. The last few days of practice had been an absolute disaster and he wasn’t looking forward to how his father would punish him for losing the big game.

“I was just telling your mother that I would like to accompany her and your father to the game,” Gerard said brightly, like he was offering Derek the greatest gift in the world.

Derek could feel the shock on his face and he quickly tried to school his features into pleasant surprise. He just hoped Gerard couldn’t hear his traitorous heart thumping out of his chest. He felt his throat tightening, his mouth going dry as he tried to find the best response.

“I look forward to having you there,” Derek finally managed to say.

“I know you won’t let the team down,” Gerard told him as he took another sip before checking his watch. “Ah, your father should be finishing up soon, I should go in and check on him.”

“It was nice seeing you, Mr. Arg - Gerard,” Derek quickly corrected, “I will see you at the game tomorrow.”

Before Gerard could respond, Derek bolted from the room. He knew it wasn’t good form, but the goddamn walls felt like they were closing in around him. He needed to escape before he said or did something he would regret.

_Derek giggled to himself as he slipped under the parlor couch. It was the perfect hiding spot as no one could see him if they were standing in front of it. There was just enough room between the couch and the bookshelf for him to squeeze behind it before crawling under the dark space. He laid his head against the soft rug, looking out of the crack of light as he heard footsteps approaching. He could see Laura’s shadow passing into the room, her hurried steps echoing along the wood floor as she looked around. She didn’t know about this spot. Only he and Stiles did. He was still debating on whether to tell Cora or not._

_“Where are you?” Laura asked out loud._

_Derek held his breath as Laura rocked back on her heels for a moment before sighing and running out of the room. Derek remained where he was for a beat. He knew Laura liked to linger around the corners of rooms to catch people coming out of their hiding spots. Just as he was about to crawl out from under the couch, two sets of heavy footsteps followed by the sound of heated words made him freeze against the floor._

_“Be reasonable, Talia,” Gerard sneered as they entered the room, “the woman is losing her mind, you can’t keep her on staff any longer.”_

_“She is more than just the children’s nanny,” Derek heard his mother argue in return, “she is a dear friend and they love her. Besides, Laura and Derek adore Stiles, and I can’t take them away from each other.”_

_Gerard scoffed. “I told Michael it was a bad idea letting her bring that boy around your children. He has been a bad influence on them.”_

_“He’s just a child,” Talia snapped. Derek had never heard his mother sound so angry. “They are all just children! They deserve to have fun and be free.”_

_“That boy will be lucky he doesn’t succumb to his mother’s sickness,” Gerard spat._

_Derek couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped his lips, but luckily it was muffled by the rug and his mother’s own outrageous cry._

_“Gerard!” Talia snarled and Derek could practically feel his mother shaking. “Don’t you dare say something like that. Stiles is like a son to me.”_

_“That is your fault for getting too attached,” Gerard dismissed, unbothered by her tone of voice. “It is time the Hales moved on before word gets out about the kind of help you keep at the house.”_

_“Is that why you’re here?” Talia asked. She was crying. Derek could hear the way her voice trembled and he was suddenly finding it difficult to hold back his own tears. “To talk with Michael about Claudia?”_

_“I suggest you talk with her before Michael does,” Gerard advised. “But just in case, I will be speaking to him as soon as he is out of his meeting.”_

_“You have no right to tell me how to run my house—” Talia was cut off by the clearing of a throat and Derek felt a shiver run down his spine as his father’s voice filled the room._

_“Darling,” Michael said, “you know this is not how we act around guests. I apologize, Gerard, why don’t we speak in my office.”_

_“No worries, Michael,” Gerard said warmly as he stepped around Talia, “I know these things can be sensitive.”_

_“Talia,” Michael said from the doorway, “find the children. I don’t want them running around this house playing that ridiculous game anymore.”_

_“Yes, dear,” Talia murmured in reply._

_Derek heard both men leave, but he didn’t dare move from his spot under the couch. His mother sniffled for a moment, a quiet sob breaking the tension that hung in the room like a thick fog. She mumbled something to herself that he couldn’t hear and then she was gone too. Derek’s fingers ran through the white fur beneath him, gripping it as if it were the only thing keeping him from floating off into space. Derek could have laid there for minutes, days, months, and he wouldn’t have noticed. He couldn’t stop the steady stream of tears pouring down his face, small hiccups making him shake as he chest began to ache terribly. He felt like he was about to lose one of the best things to ever happen to him._

The cold breeze set his lungs ablaze, but he didn’t want to take the time to turn around and grab a heavier jacket. He was already worried he had lost out on his five minutes with Stiles. Luckily, he caught Stiles heading towards his Jeep, so he still had time. Like Stiles had been reading his mind, the boy turned and Derek knew he would never get tired of seeing that too big, too bright smile filling his face. Derek dreamed of that smile.

“Hey, Derek,” Stiles greeted as he leaned against his Jeep casually, hands stuffed in the pockets of his pants. He was just in a red hoodie and jeans, but god he looked good.

“Hey,” Derek said a little breathlessly. He was always afraid the silence between them would eat him alive, but Stiles wasn’t one to stay quiet for too long, and even when he was, it was comfortable.

“Scott said practice has been a bit rough, but he’s forever the optimist. He says you’ll be ready for tomorrow,” Stiles smiled.

Derek huffed out a breath of cold air. “I hope so. You’ll be there, right?” He noticed Stiles had been around a lot more the past week or two. He must have picked up more shifts since his father had that hospital scare.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Stiles said with a grin. “Melissa said my dad should be a-okay to come as well.”

“How’s he doing?” Derek asked as he relaxed.

“Better. He scared me half to death, but we’re managing.”

Derek tilted his head to the side, taking Stiles in. There were dark circles under his eyes and Derek could have sworn his cheeks looked a little sharper, but it could have just been the trick of the light from the setting sun.

“I should be heading home,” Stiles said after a moment, “I have some college application essays to finish writing.”

“I should be starting on those,” Derek said with a roll of his eyes. He had been so focused on getting through the lacrosse championship - and his feelings for Stiles - that college seemed like the furthest thing from his mind.

“I’ll see you at the game tomorrow,” Stiles said as he reached out, his hand gripping Derek’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I know you’ll be amazing.”

Derek could still feel Stiles’ touch lingering against his skin long after he had pulled away. He watched Stiles pull out of the driveway, waving before he disappeared down the lane. Even after he had gone, Derek still stood there watching the empty road, tracing over where Stiles had touched him. As he turned back towards the house, he caught Gerard watching him intently from the window.

* * *

“Whatever you do, just get the damn ball to Hale,” Coach ordered as he directed his fiery gaze towards Derek.

Derek could feel the rest of the team’s eyes following their coach’s lead. Derek gave them all a small nod of his head, his throat too constricted to speak. It was all on him - always on him - to win the game. To do the right thing. To lead the pack. To be the hero. He could see the bright red lights of the game clock just over Coach’s shoulder. They only had three minutes left with the game tied. Danny and Boyd had scored their only two goals so far and Derek could practically feel his father’s intense gaze burning into his back. Now was his chance to prove he could do it. There was still time to show his father, show Gerard, just what he was made of. Maybe there was still time to make his father proud.

Derek barely heard the team cheer as the huddle broke. He exhaled, looking out over the boisterous crowd. He knew his mother, father, and Gerard were in the top row of the middle set of bleachers, so he did his best to avert his gaze from there. He could see Jennifer with her friends holding a big sign that had his name on it, but he breezed past her, barely making eye contact. He didn’t really need to search to know where Stiles was sitting. Derek had found him easily, like he knew exactly where the boy would be before he had even gotten to his seat. He was seated between Kira and Lydia, his father and Melissa just behind them. Erica, Cora, and Peter were there as well. He wasn’t surprised that Peter and Cora had distanced themselves from his parents and their guest. He couldn’t help but notice how close Cora was sitting to Kira, blushing slightly whenever the older girl leaned in to whisper something in her ear. 

When Stiles caught his eye, Derek felt the world slow around him. The thundering crowd fading in the background as blurs of maroon and white passed by him to get to the field. He was dressed in one of Scott’s lacrosse hoodies, the last name McCall and the number eleven plastered in big white letters against his back. Derek imagined Stiles turning around in a slightly oversized maroon hoodie with the name Hale and the number four there instead. He imagined Stiles rolling up the sleeves to his elbows, saturated in Derek’s scent of Old Spice and pine. Derek imagined how beautiful Stiles would be wrapped up in _his_ hoodie. His clothes. He imagined Stiles slipping into Derek’s worn and faded leather jacket. He imagined himself placing his hands in the pockets, pulling Stiles into a victory kiss under the bright stadium lights as the crowd roared behind them.

At least he didn’t have to imagine Stiles’ too big, too bright smile as it flashed across the field, his eyes sparkling with something Derek swore could be called magic. God, he wanted to taste that smile. 

He could hear the warning whistle, telling him to take his position on the field. He turned away from Stiles, reaching out and grabbing Scott’s arm as the boy started to jog past him.

“Derek?” Scott asked with a raised eyebrow as he stumbled to a stop. “What’s up?”

“Hey,” Derek said, making up his mind before he chickened out, “do you remember that move we tried a few days ago after practice with Isaac?”

“Yeah,” Scott nodded, watching Derek carefully. “Why?”

Derek grinned and suddenly he felt a small weight lift from his shoulders. “Just follow my lead.”

Scott opened his mouth to reply, but quickly closed it before nodding his head. When the whistle blew and the clock started running, Derek could see himself sprinting across the field. The other team had taken the ball, but Jackson had put a quick stop to it, throwing it to Danny, who then threw it to Derek. He could see the clock dip below the one minute mark, blood pumping in his ears. Coach was screaming, the crowd was screaming, the team was screaming, but all Derek could hear was the steady pump of his heart. He could see them, the two biggest guys on the team charging in his direction. He was close enough to take a shot, knew he could probably make it and win the game. He could be the hero and make everyone proud. Out of the corner of his eye he watched as Isaac set up the screen, Scott cutting left. Derek smiled as he turned, flicking the ball into the air. 

“Hale, what are you doing,” Coach roared.

But Derek only laughed as he was checked to the ground. Scott caught the ball, spinning and sinking it into the net to score the winning point of the game. There was a moment of stunned silence before the Beacon Hills crowd started to go absolutely nuts. Derek could see Coach dropping to his knees as a few of the boys on the bench dumped the gatorade container over his head, drenching him in the ice blue liquid. Isaac was the first person to reach Scott, wrapping his boyfriend in a hug before pulling him into a messy kiss. It was interrupted as the rest of the team began to dog pile onto them. Derek was still on the ground laughing. He pulled his gloves off, his fingers gripping the grass, digging into the dirt. This was real. They had won. And Derek hadn’t scored a damn goal. He was hauled to his feet by Jackson and Greenburg before Scott, Isaac, and the rest of the team were hugging him too.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe that worked!” He could hear Scott yelling somewhere close to his ear.

He couldn’t focus on their words, just the feel of Scott and Isaac’s grip on his shoulders. It didn’t set him aflame or make him feel truly alive the way it did when Stiles touched him, but it was warm and comforting and Derek decided he liked it all the same. Cora was the first person from the stands to reach him and he was shocked as she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Holy shit, Der!” Cora breathed against his neck. “That was amazing! You, Scott, and Isaac looked so in sync!”

“Yes,” Peter said with a fond smile as he reached out and gave his nephew a loving pat on the back before ruffling his hair slightly, “it was a welcomed change to see you sharing the spotlight.”

“Just seemed like the right call,” Derek said softly as he looked past Peter and Cora. He could see Stiles wrapped up between Scott and Isaac smiling and laughing as he congratulated his best friends.

“Uh oh,” Cora said quietly as she released Derek, moving to stand by Peter, the latter having stiffened. 

Derek turned to see his mother, father, and Gerard heading in their direction. Talia looked proud while his father was his typical blank slate and Gerard had a polite smile on his face like he usually did. His mother pulled him into a hug that felt genuine and he almost leaned into her as she pulled away.

“Oh, Derek, we’re so proud of you!” Talia said as happy tears pooled in her eyes. Derek wondered if their father would say anything to her about crying in public later.

“Congratulations,” Gerard said as he held out his hand for Derek to shake, “that was some game.”

Derek offered Gerard a tight, half smile before he dared to lock eyes with Michael. All his life he had been told he would grow up to be as handsome as his father. They had the same dark hair, sharp jaw, and thick, scrunching eyebrows. A long time ago, he had been proud to look just like his dad, now he was just relieved that they didn’t have the same eyes. Whenever he was facing the look of disappointment, it wasn’t like looking completely in a mirror.

“If I’m not mistaken, you could have made that shot instead of passing to the McCall boy,” Michael said in an even tone, one of his eyebrows raising slightly.

“Scott had a better chance of making the shot,” Derek explained, trying to keep his ground.

Michael clicked his tongue before he chuckled. “Well, hopefully your basketball season will be better.”

His father gave his shoulder a pat, but unlike Peter’s - which felt loving and supportive - it just made Derek feel hollow inside. He bit the inside of his cheek, the sharp taste of blood filling his mouth. Michael cleared his throat, turning towards Gerard, and Derek watched his mother’s chin dip towards her chest, her eyes turning sad.

“I believe we have a few last minute things to take care of before you leave tomorrow, Gerard,” Michael said as he gestured for them to head towards the car. “How about we discuss them over a glass of brandy in my office?”

“Excellent idea,” Gerard smiled as he fell in step with Michael. “Talia, you’ll be joining us, won’t you?”

Both men paused, their heads thrown over their shoulders as Talia remained frozen in place, her eyes still trained on the ground.

“Darling,” Michael said, “come along.”

Talia finally looked up and Derek had never hated how quickly she could compose herself before in his life. It wasn’t fair. Not to her. Not to his sisters. Not to him. Not to any of them. But they were Hales, and saving face was what they did best. Talia reached out and gave his arm a gentle squeeze.

“I will see you all later, have fun celebrating with the team,” she said and only Derek could detect the slight waver in her voice.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Peter and Cora still standing just next to him. Cora seemed to be shaking with anger and even Peter looked appalled at what had just happened. Derek had been expecting a lot worse, but it sure didn’t make him feel any better. Was he floating again? Living outside of his body as the world spun in those faded shades of greys and blacks? He wished he didn’t care. Why the hell did he care so much what his father thought? Why did it hurt? Why was it suddenly so hard to breathe? They had won, but Derek felt like he had once again lost the game.

“Dude! That was awesome!”

It wasn’t the words that snapped him out of his panicked state, but the feel of arms being thrown around his neck and the weight of a boy slamming into his chest. Derek stumbled backwards, nearly falling to the ground, but he wrapped his arms around the waist pressed against him without thinking. His heart must have left his body as he realized Stiles’ head was buried in the crook of his neck, his warm breath sending goosebumps along Derek’s skin. Derek squeezed his eyes shut as he pulled Stiles against him just a little bit tighter. He’d done it. Stiles had just gone and jumped over the cliff’s edge right in front of everyone. 

And Derek?

Derek never wanted to let go. It was far from the dream of kissing Stiles underneath the stadium lights, but this - _this_ \- this felt something like the magic he could see sparkling in those amber eyes. The world could have hurdled into the sun, the ground tearing open to swallow them whole, the very sky above their head could have been falling down and Derek wouldn’t have let Stiles go.

“That pass was perfect!” Stiles cheered as he pulled himself away so he could look at Derek’s face. “Scott is beyond excited!”

Every part of Derek was screaming, craving, _dying_ to pull Stiles back, but he settled for the feel of Stiles’ hands wrapped around his arms instead.

“It wasn’t a big deal,” Derek dismissed with a small shrug of his shoulders.

“Not a big deal?” Stiles asked in mock outrage. “Uh, you just helped the team win the state championship game! Biggest deal ever!”

“Stiles…” Derek began, his cheeks flushing.

“You’re coming to dinner with us to celebrate,” Stiles said as he pointed a finger at Derek. “I’ve already convinced Peter and Cora to come, so no backing out.”

“Yes,” Peter said with a mysterious smile on his face that only made Derek blush harder. “Stiles and Kira have informed us that this place has the best milkshakes in town.”

“I don’t know…” Derek said as he looked over to where Jackson and Lydia were already heading off to the parking lot together. He could see Jennifer scowling at the other end of the field before muttering something to one of her friends, eyes sending daggers in Stiles’ direction.

“Derek,” Cora whined as she punched him in the arm, “come on! You deserve it!”

Stiles was still holding on to him, eyes full of that magic he felt like he could get lost in.

“If they don’t have curly fries then I’m leaving,” Derek finally caved with a grin. He could feel his heart swell as Stiles smiled brightly at him.

“Those are the only acceptable fries, big guy,” Stiles said as he elbowed Derek playfully.

The four of them started walking to where the rest of their group was waiting for them. Stiles was already talking rapidly, recounting the highlights of the game like it didn’t just happen. Derek didn’t care though, because that hollow feeling left by his father was feeling just a little bit less empty.

* * *

_Derek could feel the chilly breeze tickle his nose as he pulled the hood of his jacket over his head. There was a fresh dusting of snow on the ground and Derek wanted nothing to do with it, but Laura loved the snow. Stiles loved the snow. So he had bundled up in an obnoxious amount of layers - according to Laura - and joined his sister and their friend in search of fallen pinecones on the edge of the preserve. Peter and Claudia were chatting around the small fire that had been lit, steaming mugs of coffee wrapped in their hands._

_“How many pinecones do we need?” Derek whined as a fresh snowflake melted against his black boots._

_“Enough so that the birds don’t go hungry!” Stiles called from behind a tree, his arm already full of pinecones that were different shapes and sizes. He hurriedly rushed to dump them in a basket Laura had brought out._

_“Whatever,” Derek huffed in annoyance._

_He felt something hit him on the side of the head and he turned to see Laura ducking behind a tree, giggling. He growled as he started for her before he was hit from behind, the pinecone tumbling to the ground. He planted his left foot, turning with surprising speed, catching Stiles off guard. Stiles only had a moment to realize his mistake, his laughter catching in his throat as Derek tackled him to the ground. They landed in a soft patch of grass, knocking back into one of the pine trees. A spray of needles, pinecones, and snow rained down on them._

_“Derek!” Stiles cried, but he was laughing again._

_Derek watched as the snow brushed against his pale skin, intricate patterns of white kissing his constellation of moles. They tangled in his long lashes, fanning over those amber eyes that reminded him of the honey his mother sometimes bought at the farmer’s market. Warm and sweet and hypnotizing. Derek couldn’t look away._

_“Derek,” Stiles said as he reached out for a handful of the pines, “look it’s your tree!”_

_“What?” Derek asked as he looked down at the pile of green in Stiles’ palm._

_“Your tree!” Stiles said again like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Mom calls them Grey Pines, but I call them Derek’s Tree because they’re the same color as your eyes.”_

_“My tree,” Derek murmured to himself before reaching out to take the pine needles from Stiles’ hand._

_“How come I don’t get a tree?” Laura asked from behind them with her hands on her hips._

_“Cause you’re not as cool as Derek,” Stiles said as he stuck his tongue out at Laura._

_Laura gathered up a fistful of snow, throwing it at him. Stiles gasped dramatically before rolling out from under Derek to chase Laura down. Derek sat on the ground, his back against the tree,_ his _tree, clutching the needles to his chest._

_“Derek’s Tree,” Derek said with a soft smile._

Derek looked away from the window as he heard Cora’s thundering footsteps come down the stairs. It was still there. His tree. He could still see Stiles, Laura, and himself ducking behind it, throwing snowballs at each other until their fingers were numb. Over the years, when it was all just too much to handle, he would go out to those trees, running his fingers through the grey-green pines. He could take comfort in knowing Stiles had once found some beauty in Derek’s eyes.

“Come on,” Cora said from the entrance way, “I bet Stiles is waiting for us.”

Derek followed Cora outside and together they headed towards the barn. Fall was rapidly changing into winter and going out for horseback rides wouldn’t be as fun when the temperatures plunged. There was a spot deep in the preserve - a gorgeous thirty foot waterfall and reflection pool - that was difficult to reach when ice and snow covered the ground so they had arranged to go out with Stiles a few weeks back. Derek was taking advantage of the two week break between the end of his lacrosse season and the beginning of the basketball season. Although his father had told him several times to start practicing in their indoor basketball court, Derek found himself lingering around the barn whenever Stiles was there. 

He’d learned that Stiles was applying to a couple of top colleges, but Berkeley was his number one choice. Derek had laughed at the irony of it all. He had planned on college being an escape from his feelings for Stiles, but Berkeley was his top choice as well. He knew Stiles had been extremely stressed about the application process and affording tuition. Derek had barely given either of those things a second thought. Of course he needed to get good grades and high test scores, but both his parents were Berkeley alumni who donated _a lot_ of money. The Dean was a close friend of his father’s. Derek was basically guaranteed acceptance and money had never been an issue in the first place. Most of his friends were in the same boat, save for Boyd and Erica, who had to work a little harder to get scholarships. But, for Stiles, the work never seemed to end.

_“I just need one more letter of recommendation,” Stiles had said one evening as he was getting ready to head out, “but I’m at a loss at who to ask.”_

_Stiles looked tired, like he always did, but it seemed even more so than usual. Derek had even asked him if he’d been sleeping well, but all he got was a snort of a laugh in return before Stiles had redirected the conversation back to college applications._

_“What about Mr. Harris?” Derek asked as he helped fill the feed buckets for the horses._

_Stiles’ laugh was harsh, hollow, and sad. Derek decided he didn’t like that sound._

_“If you haven’t noticed, Harris hates me,” Stiles said as he looked down into the water bucket he had just filled. “It’s the reason I’m not a threat to Lydia becoming Valedictorian.”_

_“What?” Derek asked, outraged._

_Stiles looked up at Derek with a wry smile on his face. “Most of the teachers don’t really appreciate my loud mouth, spastic behavior, inability to sit still in class, and overall charming humor.”_

_“So they deduct points or give you lower grades because they don’t like your personality?” Derek asked in a horrified voice._

_“Only Harris does that,” Stiles said with a slight shrug. “But no one else besides the two teachers I’ve already asked are really willing to write anything positive about me, even if I’ve proven how smart I am.”_

_“That’s not fair,” Derek said softly, but he could feel his jaw quivering in anger._

_“Maybe I can ask Coach,” Stiles continued like he didn’t see just how angry Derek was on his behalf. “I did help train Scott and Isaac all summer to be first line and Scott got the winning goal.”_

_Derek made a mental note of personally talking to Coach to make sure Stiles got the best recommendation the man could possibly write._

Derek was excited to get out into the fresh air. His friends - and Jennifer - were coming over later that evening to study for midterms a few of the teachers had decided to dish out before their Thanksgiving break. He wasn’t looking forward to a night of Jennifer basically plastering herself to his lap, but he had been too afraid to ask Stiles if he could study with him and his friends instead. He knew he had to draw a line somewhere. Now that lacrosse was over, he didn’t really have a reason to hang out with Scott and Isaac without raising suspicion. While Lydia, Erica, and Boyd had taken to Stiles, they still weren’t running in the same circle.

“This will be my longest horseback trip to date,” Cora said proudly as they reached the barn doors.

“You’ve been doing great,” Derek replied genuinely. 

He had taken to complimenting and praising Cora more when given the opportunity. He knew their father would never deliver such kind words when it was clear Cora was his least favorite child. So Derek had been trying to make up for it. At the very least, he felt like he had grown closer to Cora over the past few months. They shared somewhat of a sibling solidarity whenever their parents let them down. When Derek pulled open the door, they were both surprised to see that none of the horses were ready to go, in fact, Stiles was actually putting things away.

“Hey,” Stiles greeted them with a smile as he swept along the heated, wooden floors, “what brings you two out here this chilly afternoon?”

Derek and Cora exchanged a quick glance.

“Stiles,” Cora said, hands on her hip, “don’t you remember we had planned on going out to Wolf Creek Falls today?”

Derek watched as Stiles froze, his hands gripping the handle of the broom tightly, his face growing pale.

“What?” He asked, confused.

“The three of us,” Cora indicated to each of them, “riding out to the falls after Derek’s lacrosse season was over and before his basketball practices began.”

His amber eyes widened in what Derek could only describe as fear and panic, his chest starting to rise and fall rapidly.

“Stiles,” Derek said cautiously, “it’s okay if you forgot. We can help get the horses ready and head out soon.”

“No, no, no, no, no,” Stiles muttered to himself as he turned his back on them. “I don’t forget things like that.”

“It’s really not a big deal if—” Cora began, but was cut off as Stiles began to hyperventilate.

“I can’t—” he said before inhaling deeply. He began to pace hurriedly, tugging on his hair harshly. “It’s not…. _fuck_!”

“Stiles, it’s okay!” Derek tried to reassure him, panic filling his own voice.

Stiles was clutching at his chest, his breathing becoming shallow as he stumbled back into the wall. Derek and Cora were frozen in fear as they watched Stiles sink to his knees, tears splashing over his cheeks as he fought to catch his breath.

“Not now, not now!” Stiles managed to get out in a broken sob. “I didn’t forget! I couldn’t have forgotten!”

“Stiles…” Derek managed to say weakly, but he didn’t know what to do.

“Derek,” Cora whispered and it sounded like she was nearly in tears, “Derek, I think Stiles is having a panic attack.”

A particularly terrible wheezing gasp of air from Stiles snapped Derek into motion. He turned, grabbing Cora’s shoulders. “Peter! Get Peter! Hurry!”

Cora nodded and ran from the barn without hesitation. Derek turned back towards Stiles, slowly approaching the boy. He could feel his heart in his throat, his nerve endings on fire, wanting to reach out and touch - _comfort_ \- Stiles, but he was terrified he would break him if he did.

“Stiles,” Derek pleaded, his hand hovering in the space between them, “I’m here, it’s okay.”

Stiles’ head was between his knees, fingers digging into the back of his neck. Derek could see red scratches against the pale skin, lines of blood disappearing beneath his shirt. He was still desperately gasping for air, still sobbing about _not forgetting_. Derek felt helpless, his heart breaking as Stiles continued to hurt himself. Derek finally reached out, wrapping his hands around Stiles’ to stop him from ripping into his skin. He thought Stiles would try to fight or pull away from him, but the boy just dug his blunt nails into Derek’s hand. He didn’t mind though. If it meant Stiles wasn’t hurting himself, Derek would suffer through the pain. It felt like an eternity before Cora had come back with Peter in tow. Derek had been terrified that Stiles was on the verge of passing out from the lack of oxygen.

“What’s happened?” Peter asked sharply as he looked down at Stiles with concern. “Cora said Stiles was having a panic attack.”

“We were supposed to go out for a ride today and Stiles must have forgotten.” Derek explained, flinching slightly where Stiles gripped him a little tighter. “He started freaking out, saying there was no way he could forget something like that.”

Derek watched as a look of understanding passed over his uncle’s face. He had closed his eyes and Derek could have sworn he looked like he was in pain for a moment. What did Peter know that he and Cora didn’t? Peter carefully got down next to them, placing a gentle hand on Stiles’ knee.

“Stiles,” he said calmly, quietly, “I need you to tell me what the word _austere_ means and its part of speech.”

Derek raised his eyebrows as he looked at his uncle like he was crazy, but Peter ignored him as he repeated his instructions again. Derek wanted to argue that this wasn’t helping at all, but before he could open his mouth Stiles was answering his uncle’s question.

“Au-austere,” Stiles wheezed. “Adjective. Severe or strict in manner, attitude, or appearance.”

“Good.” Peter said with an encouraging smile. “How about _benevolent_?”

There was a sharp intake of breath before Stiles slowly let it out. “Benevolent. Adjective. Well meaning or kindly.”

“Excellent,” Peter hummed as he gave Stiles’ knee a soothing pat. “Let’s try _culmination_.”

This continued on for several minutes. Peter would give Stiles a new word, and each time Stiles would answer. Derek never once let go of Stiles’ hands, afraid if he did it would send him right back into his panicked state. Stiles slowly regained his breath, the hysterical sobs quieting. Derek’s own heart returned to a steady rhythm. He could feel his legs beginning to go numb from the position he was currently in, the adrenaline wearing off, but he didn’t dare move. Not until he knew Stiles was okay. It wasn’t until Peter had gone through fifteen SAT prep words that Stiles finally lifted his head from his knees. 

“I’m okay,” he said weakly. He tried to offer them a smile, but it was pained and his red and swollen eyes swam with tears again. “Sorry.”

“Stiles,” Peter said as he gripped the boy’s shoulders, “don’t be sorry. You don’t have to explain why you did what you did.”

Stiles gave him a small nod of his head, looking thankful before he closed his eyes, leaning back against the wall. He was still holding onto Derek’s hands.

“Is there anyone that you can call to come pick you up?” Peter asked, ignoring Derek’s questioning gaze. Peter knew something and Derek wanted to know too. He wanted to know why Stiles’ had gone into a panic over a simple mistake.

“Scott,” Stiles answered after a moment. “I’ll call Scott.”

Peter nodded his head. “Cora and I will get you some water,” he said as he stood up, “and we will be keeping this between the four of us. No reason Talia needs to know.”

Derek had already sworn not to tell anyone about what happened, but the fiery look in Peter’s eyes still burned. Cora nodded her head in silent agreement. As his sister and uncle left the barn, Derek slowly sat down next to Stiles, their hands still grasped tightly together. Stiles didn’t say a word as he slipped his phone out of his pocket with his free hand. Derek could hear the dial tone, the sound of Scott’s bright and happy voice as he answered only souring when he heard how shaky Stiles sounded. He could hear Stiles murmuring something, but he couldn’t quite make out the words. Stiles had been the one to panic, but Derek didn’t feel too far behind.

He gave Stiles’ hand a gentle squeeze, using it to keep him grounded. Stiles was okay. Stiles was here. Stiles was okay. Stiles was here. He didn’t understand why he needed to convince himself of these two things, but they were the only two thoughts running through Derek’s mind. Like it was the most important thing in the world. They sat in silence with just the rustle of the horses keeping them company. If Peter noticed their intertwined fingers when he finally returned, then he didn’t show it. Derek probably should have cared more. It was far too intimate for him to be doing with someone like Stiles.

But still, he didn’t let go.

“Scott and Isaac should be here soon,” Stiles said after he took a small sip of water. “Isaac can take the Jeep and Scott will drive me home.”

“If you need tomorrow off—” Peter began, but Stiles was shaking his head vehemently.

“No!” he declined, slopping some of the water down his shirt. “I - it’s fine. I should be okay after a decent nap. Besides, fall break is this week and I’m off all week.”

“Okay, Stiles,” Peter said with a small nod of his head.

Peter and Cora set to work finishing cleaning up the barn as Derek and Stiles remained seated against the wall. When Scott and Isaac arrived, Derek reluctantly let Stiles go. He watched as Scott wrapped his best friend in his arms, embracing him tightly. Derek felt his teeth grinding together, that stupidly sick feeling of jealousy overwhelming him as he watched Stiles practically collapse against Scott, like he was the only thing keeping Stiles standing. He knew they were just best friends - that Scott and Isaac were together - but it was the closeness, that all-consuming trust both boys had with each other, that made Derek’s jaw quiver in anger. He wanted that. He wanted to be Stiles’ comfort. He wanted to be the one Stiles could confide in and run to. He wanted….

God, he wanted so much.

“Peter,” Cora said, arms crossed over her chest, brows raised in confusion, “I don’t understand why Stiles freaked out. He wasn’t in trouble or anything.”

Derek averted his gaze from the empty road to where his uncle was still facing forward, eyes not really focusing on anything in particular. There was that far away look in his eyes, like he was thinking about the past.

“Perhaps,” Peter said after a moment, his lips tightening in the corners, “that is a question for Stiles when he is ready to give an answer.”

“But you know,” Cora argued. “We can see it in your eyes.”

“One can always hope to be wrong,” Peter replied mysteriously before he turned to head back towards the house. 

He gave Derek’s shoulder a comforting squeeze as he passed. They watched his uncle disappear through the door as Cora huffed angrily before stomping away. He was left standing alone with a terrible twisting feeling in his gut and a lot more questions than answers.

* * *

Stiles was thankful for the cool glass of the passenger window in Melissa McCall’s car. He was thankful for the quiet hum of the pop station playing from the radio. He was thankful for the too tight seatbelt pressing against his chest and the two-day-old soda cups sitting in the middle console. He was thankful for the swish of the keys as Scott’s leg bounced against them every three seconds and the angle of the rearview mirror that allowed him to catch glimpses of his Jeep whenever he looked up. He was thankful for Isaac driving it even though it terrified him to let anyone other than himself do so. He was thankful for Scott for picking him up, no questions asked. He was thankful for Scott waiting until he spoke first.

“I forgot, Scotty.”

He was thankful that his voice didn’t break as he spoke the words.

“It’s okay, Stiles,” Scott said. Stiles was thankful that Scott believed in those words. Forever the optimist. “It doesn’t mean—” 

“I haven’t been sleeping,” Stiles added because he’d been holding that in for so long.

Scott threw him a weary glance. “It’s not—” he paused, like was trying to find the right words, “ _you’re not going anywhere_.”

Stiles wanted to believe him. He wanted to believe that Scott was telling the truth. The conviction in his voice. He wanted to believe that the same disease that took his mother wasn’t coming for him. Stiles was thankful Scott never gave up.

“School’s been stupid stressful,” Scott said, his knee bouncing faster now. “You’ve been taking on more hours at the ranch, your dad was injured a month ago, and college applications have been eating you alive. I’m surprised you haven’t completely collapsed from exhaustion yet.”

Stiles closed his eyes for a moment, his pounding headache being soothed by the cold window. Sometimes he wondered how he hadn’t collapsed either. And now, on top of everything else, he had to come to terms with the fact that he’d just had a major panic attack in front of Derek. Just another reminder that maybe he wasn’t - _and never would be_ _-_ good enough to be friends with someone like Derek Hale. 

Let alone anything _more_.

Not that he wanted anything more. Or did he? No, he couldn’t. It was Derek! Derek _fucking_ Hale! It wasn’t like he’d been thinking about Derek every single goddamn day since they had stumbled back into each other’s lives. It wasn’t like he craved those moments between them, the moments when Derek sought him out at the barn a few minutes before he left for the day. It wasn’t like he caught Derek turning his head to look back as they passed in the hallway. It wasn’t like he was the only who could see Derek, see him suffering silently. It wasn’t like he felt his entire body catch fire when they touched. 

It wasn’t like they were allowed to be something.

Because Stiles did want it. No matter how much he told himself it couldn’t be, that it would just end in disaster. He wanted it anyway. 

_“Mom,” Stiles said as he looked up at his mother, tearing his eyes away from the book she was reading, “do you think soulmates are real?”_

_Claudia chuckled as she closed the book, setting it on the nightstand next to her hospital bed. She wrapped her arms around her son, pulling him closely to her chest._

_“The universe is a strange place, my little Mischief,” she hummed as she carded her fingers over his buzzcut. “I believe you can have more than one soulmate and they don’t always have to be romantic.”_

_“Like Scotty!” Stiles said with a grin. “My best friend soulmate!”_

_Claudia chuckled. “Yes, exactly.”_

_“Derek’s different though,” Stiles said with a small sigh._

_Claudia’s fingers paused, tilting her head so she could get a better look at her son’s face. “What do you mean?”_

_“Scott is like a lighthouse,” Stiles explained as he reached for the book on the table. He flipped it open to a page where a bright red lighthouse was standing tall against the cliffside. “He helps me find my way home sometimes when I’m lost. I can always trust him to be there when I need him.”_

_“Are you a ship, my little Mischief?” Claudia asked as her breath tickled against his neck, making him fall into a fit of laughter for a moment. “So, Scott is a lighthouse...”_

_“But Derek - Derek is an anchor,” Stiles elaborated as he continued to flip through the book. He passed over pages of beautiful ships sailing across the sea._

_“An anchor?” Claudia asked, slightly amused._

_Stiles nodded his head. “Derek is an anchor. He is the only thing keeping me from floating away forever.” He closed the book, turning to look back up at his mother. “What kind of soulmate does that make him?”_

“Listen,” Scott said, pulling Stiles from his thoughts, “mom made a few trial run pies for Thanksgiving, want to come taste test them with Isaac and I?”

“How many pies did she make?” Stiles asked with amusement. 

“Like four or five,” Scott said with a roll of his eyes. “But you remember how her pumpkin pie turned out last year.”

“She accidently used salt instead of sugar,” Stiles laughed, “and then she burned it on top of that.”

“I don’t even like pumpkin pie and I was disappointed!” Scott cried. “Now she’s made apple, cherry, pumpkin, pecan, and a chocolate cream pie just in case.”

“God,” Stiles said as he imagined the McCall’s tiny counter lined with the different pies, “don’t tell my dad that. He’ll serve one giant piece on each plate if he finds out.”

Scott snickered and both boys immediately fell into their typical banter. Stiles was thankful he had Scott. He was thankful that Scott was his lighthouse.

He was thankful that Derek was still his anchor. 

* * *

_“He’s trying to kill me! He’s going to kill me! Get out!”_

_There was banging. Banging on the hospital door. Stiles was banging. Cause he needed out, out, out. He needed to get out because she was coming after him. All brittle boned, blackened fingers, face crumbling into ash and he needed to get the fuck out! But the door was locked and he was banging, but no one could hear him, so he just kept banging and she kept screaming._

_“You’re killing me!”_

_Bang. Bang._ Bang _._

And suddenly Stiles was on the floor, limbs tangled in the blanket he’d been wrapped in. He felt groggy, the blurring vision of the living room becoming clearer and he wasn’t in the hospital. He was home. Except there was still banging, but he wasn’t pounding on the door and it took him another moment to realize someone was waiting at the front. He pulled himself to his feet, throwing the blanket back on the couch. He could see through the dining room window that the sun was nearly set. His father wouldn’t be home for a few more hours and he must have fallen asleep before he could respond to Kira and Cora about going to the movies. So when he pulled open the door he was surprised to see Derek Hale standing on the other side. 

Derek Hale dressed in dark jeans, a white Henley, and his sacred leather jacket. And then there Stiles was, dressed in sweats and Scott’s lacrosse hoodie with a high probability of dried drool on his chin and hair sticking up at odd angles. 

“Derek,” Stiles said as he quickly wiped his face just to be safe, “what are you doing here?”

Derek shifted on his feet for a moment, like he was deciding on just the right words to say. 

“I wanted to see if you were okay,” he finally said, voice soft. 

Stiles could still remember the warmth of Derek’s hands wrapped in his, stopping him from digging into his skin, harming himself as he tried to come out of the panic attack. And Derek didn’t stop holding it when Peter had arrived or when he had finally calmed down. Derek held on to him all the way through to when Scott had picked him up. Now he was standing in Stiles’ doorway, asking if Stiles was okay. It was just over a week ago, but it was enough time for Stiles to overanalyze it. Enough time to really let the embarrassment and the shame sink in. 

“Yeah,” Stiles said with a small nod of his head, “yeah, I’m fine. I’m really sorry it happened, it was so stupid of me—”

“It wasn’t stupid,” Derek immediately said, catching Stiles off guard. He watched as Derek ducked his head for a moment, shoving his hands deep in his pockets to avoid fiddling with them. “Look, you don’t have to talk about it, because it must be something hard to talk about, but it wasn’t stupid.”

Before he could stop himself Stiles said, “You want to come inside?”

Derek looked up, his eyes both apprehensive and hopeful. Stiles wasn’t sure how to feel about that look.

“You sure?” Derek asked.

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, my dad’s working the late shift and I was thinking about ordering pizza. Maybe you could stay for a bit and we could watch a movie?”

It was different from their normal hangouts, if Stiles could even call their small moments hangouts at all. Sure, they had been in a few group settings over the past month or two, but the last time he and Derek hung out one on one was years ago.

_“That one looks like a wolf.”_

_Derek tilted his head to the side, frowning slightly, his hair tickling Stiles’ face, cheeks pressed against each other._

_“I don’t see it,” Derek finally said after a moment._

_Stiles pointed to the sky, tracing the shape of the cloud lazily moving through the bright blue. It was the first sunny day of the summer after two straight weeks of rain. The grass was slightly damp, but neither boys minded as the warm breeze brushed dandelions into the air._

_“See the head,” Stiles pointed as he closed one eye, his tongue sticking out like it would help him concentrate, “and the arch of the back leading all the way down to the tail.”_

_“I think it looks like a fluffy cat,” Derek told him as he poked Stiles in the side, causing the boy to laugh._

_“A cat?” Stiles cried as he rolled onto his side so he was facing Derek now. “Derek, don’t you have eyes?”_

_“Yes,” Derek said as he shifted so he could see Stiles, “and I am rolling them right now.”_

_“Sourwolf,” Stiles teased as he ran his fingers over Derek’s scrunched eyebrows._

_“Do you think you’ll be gone long?” Derek asked, his voice growing softer now._

_Stiles shrugged his shoulders. “Mom said she just needed a break for a little while. I don’t see why dad can’t bring me over to play.”_

_Stiles watched as Derek’s eyes dropped to the ground. He picked at a blade of grass, slowly ripping it to pieces._

_“My dad wants me to go to lacrosse camp this summer,” Derek murmured as he plucked another bright green blade, rolling it between his fingers, “says I need to start practicing if I want to be good in high school.”_

_“High school!” Stiles said as his jaw dropped slightly. “But that’s forever away! Besides, you’ll be good at whatever you do.”_

_“Only if you’re there to cheer me on,” Derek half-smiled as he looked up at his friend._

_“Of course,” Stiles scoffed. “Where else would I go? You can’t get rid of me, Sourwolf!”_

_Stiles suddenly tackled Derek to the ground, poking and tickling Derek until the boy was howling with laughter. Stiles loved hearing Derek laugh. It made him feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. He knew it would be hard to be away from Derek and Laura for a while, but Stiles would be back. He had to be._

_“I would never want to let you go, Stiles,” Derek said when he finally caught his breath._

_“Stiles,” both boys heard Stiles’ father call from the driveway, “time to go.”_

_Stiles couldn’t help but notice the sad and slightly grave tone in his father’s voice. He could see it in his eyes too. Tired. His father looked tired. Normally, Stiles would beg and plead to stay a little longer, but he couldn’t do it with his father looking at him like that. He suddenly felt panicked, a sharp pang resonating in his chest. He couldn’t explain, couldn’t understand why he was feeling this way, but he was pulling Derek into a hug, taking him by surprise._

_“Stiles!” Derek laughed as he returned the hug. “Hey, it’s okay.”_

_Stiles just held on tighter, afraid of letting go. He knew this goodbye wasn’t a forever thing, but why did it feel that way? After another call from his dad, he finally let Derek go. He blinked back the stupid tears in his eyes, trying to smile._

_“See you later, Sourwolf,” he said, his voice a little shaky._

_Derek was frowning, eyebrows scrunched together, trying to figure out if he did something wrong. “See you later, Mischief.”_

_As Stiles looked out the window of his father’s car, he watched the wolf cloud shift and change until it was nothing more than just a white blur in the sky._

Stiles wondered if he had known that was the last time they got to hang out, just the two of them. If he would have done anything different, said something more. He wondered if it would have mattered or if the outcome would still be the same. The forces that had driven them apart had been out of their control, but maybe the forces that had brought them back together were stronger.

“Sounds nice,” Derek said with a small smile. A real smile. A peek of bunny teeth smile.

Stiles moved so that Derek could come in and then directed him to the living room while Stiles ordered the pizza. When he was finished, he found that Derek had already made himself comfortable on the couch, his leather jacket thrown over a chair and his boots by the front door. He looked soft and relaxed. It was different from the straight-back and stiffened posture he usually kept when he was around his family, especially his dad. Stiles couldn’t help but grin slightly as he moved to sit next to Derek, his knee touching Derek’s thigh as he sat cross-legged on the couch.

“I hope you like _Star Wars_ ,” Stiles said as he queued up the movie. “As much as I love Scott, he’s never watched it. I somehow can’t get him to sit through all of the movies!”

“I’ve never seen them either,” Derek admitted as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Stiles turned to Derek with a mock outrageous look on his face. “Derek Hale has never seen _Star Wars_? And here I thought you were receiving a proper education.”

He watched as Derek rolled his eyes, snorting a laugh while he indicated for Stiles to start the movie. Stiles didn’t hesitate and excitedly hit the play button. It had been a while since he really sat and watched them with someone. Most of the time, when he was home alone and feeling sad, he would put the movies on in the background. He’d walk around the empty house, reenacting scenes from the movie, spewing the dialogue dramatically as he moved from room to room. 

“I’ll try not to talk too much since this is your first time,” Stiles promised after the beginning credits rolled through. He had a bad habit of talking through movies, reciting random facts and stating his opinions about things. His friends had just grown used to it over the years, but he didn’t want to annoy Derek into leaving barely fifteen minutes in.

“I don’t mind,” Derek said with a small shrug. 

“You say that now,” Stiles replied with an impish grin as he threw Derek a look.

“Really,” Derek told him seriously. “I enjoy listening to you talk.”

Stiles opened his mouth to reply, but he found he had no words to follow that statement up. No one had ever really told him they enjoyed his mindless chatter. In fact, most people - excluding his friends - found it rather annoying and were not afraid to let him know. He couldn’t tell if Derek was messing with him or not, but he firmly decided he would try to keep as quiet as possible. 

That only lasted about five minutes before he was talking Derek’s ear off about some obscure movie set facts. Derek nodded, eyes moving between the movie and Stiles’ face as he talked. He sometimes asked questions, referring to some of Stiles’ earlier statements and laughed when Stiles would perfectly quote a scene, mimicking the character’s voices. Half way through the first movie, the pizza arrived and they both eagerly dug in. Stiles noticed that when they were finished, Derek had shifted so that their legs were touching again. The first movie bled into the second movie, and somehow they had drawn closer to each other. Stiles had one of his legs thrown over Derek, the latter’s hand resting against his knee, shoulders slumped together. 

“Okay, you’re going to think I’m a total sap,” Stiles said as he poked Derek to make sure he was paying extra close attention, “but I love this part so much.”

Derek raised a curious eyebrow before he turned to watch Han Solo lean in, kissing Leia passionately. 

“Sometimes my mom would just put on this scene and we would watch it over and over again until my dad yelled at us to turn it off,” Stiles said with a grin. “She would say it was the most romantic moment she had ever witnessed in film.” 

_I love you._

_I know._

“That’s the most romantic movie moment?” Derek scoffed as he looked between the television and Stiles with a doubtful expression on his face.

“Uh yeah, dude!” Stiles said as he threw his hands in the air. “How is that _not_ peak romance?”

“All he said was ‘I know’.” Derek replied, turning slightly so he could face Stiles.

“Well, what would _you_ say if someone told you ‘I love you’ in the heat of the moment thinking you’d never see them again?” Stiles asked.

“I don’t know,” Derek shrugged. “Probably just ‘I love you too’ or something like that.”

“Boring,” Stiles teased as he jabbed Derek in the side where he knew the boy was ticklish.

Derek gasped, grabbing Stiles’ hand to stop him. Stiles only used his other hand to tickle Derek, trying to free his right one. Derek was torn between laughing and yelling at Stiles to stop as they wrestled on the couch. 

“Fine, what makes it so romantic, then?” Derek finally managed to get out as if that could be enough to distract Stiles.

Stiles paused, his chest heaving slightly from the effort. He just now noticed he was practically sitting on Derek’s lap, his hand still held firmly between Derek’s fingers.

“It—” Stiles took a moment to catch his breath, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. He noticed Derek’s eyes follow the movement, his pupils widening. “He doesn’t need to say ‘I love you’ in return because they both already know. They know how they feel without really having to say anything at all. Leia actually mirrors this later in Episode Six.”

Derek tilted his head slightly, face soft, but eyes intense as he listened to Stiles. His racing heart wasn’t from their wrestling match, but the feel of Derek’s breath against his skin and the deep, dark desire to close the distance between them.

“That’s what makes it worth the leap,” Stiles continued. “Because there was never any doubt. It’s just there. It’s always been there.”

“It’s always been there,” Derek echoed. “It’s always been worth the leap.”

Stiles was so used to overthinking, over-analyzing every part of his life because there had to be an answer. If he just looked hard enough, he could find the answer. Now, he was moving without thinking, without worry or doubts or fear because the goddamn answer had been right in front of him this whole time. He could feel Derek’s small intake of breath, the brush of stubble against his cheek. The ending credits’ music was blaring in the background, but all Stiles could hear was his heart pounding out of his chest and holy shit he was so close - _so fucking close_ \- to getting the one thing he thought he would never have. The one thing he had shoved so far down into the darkness so that it could never be used against him. So close, their lips nearing serendipity…

The flash of car lights through the window and the sound of a roaring engine made them both jump out of their skin. Stiles stumbled backwards against the other end of the couch, taking a shuddering breath as Derek looked away, cheeks a bright shade of red.

“I, uh, should go,” Derek said, getting up suddenly. He couldn’t look at Stiles, he _wouldn’t_ look at Stiles as he moved around the room to gather up his things. “Thanks for the pizza and the movie.”

Stiles was frozen against his spot on the couch, watching with a terrible, gut-wrenching sensation. He’d ruined it. He picked the wrong answer and now he was falling through that dark, black pit he had dug up to reach the thing he had wanted most. As if he could feel Stiles’ pain and self-loathing, Derek stopped at the edge of the living room, turning to finally look at him.

“I know,” he murmured before heading to the door as Stiles’ father walked in.

Stiles could hear his dad greeting Derek and bidding him a good evening. It was all he could do from keeping himself from falling completely apart at the thought that maybe Derek did feel the same way in return.

* * *

Stiles sat against the bleachers, pencil between his teeth, eyes sliding from the notes sprawled before him to focus Derek moving down the court, basketball bouncing in a steady rhythm. He could see beads of sweat glistening on Derek’s tanned skin, his dark hair slick in the fluorescent lights of the gym. Stiles could see the line of muscle in his calves flex as he ran, see his biceps bulge as he went to shoot. Derek was a wonder to behold on the court. He was somehow better at basketball than lacrosse, which meant he was probably the best player in the city because he had been a damn good lacrosse player. Stiles couldn’t help how his mouth ran dry as Derek turned after making a beautiful three point shot, winking in Stiles’ direction. Sure, there were a gaggle of girls just beneath him, Jennifer being one of them, so it appeared he could be sending it their way, but Stiles knew. 

While they didn’t have any more _almost_ moments, something between them had once again shifted and now Stiles felt like he was being hurled into the sun with no chance of survival. Stiles imagined what it would be like to twist his fingers through Derek’s soaked hair, bodies hot, lips desperate and searching. Derek could easily pick him up, pin him against the lockers as the post victory adrenaline burned through Derek’s veins. What Stiles wouldn’t give to feel Derek’s teeth scrape against his skin, mark up his neck in purples and blues…

“Earth to Stiles,” Scott said, snapping his fingers in Stiles’ face to get his attention.

“What?” Stiles asked as he pulled his gaze away from Derek just to see his three friends looking at him with curious expressions on their faces.

“Kira was asking if you got your third letter of recommendation,” Scott said as he glanced between Stiles and the court.

“Uh, yeah, actually,” Stiles said quickly as he cleared his throat, “I did. Coach wrote one for me.”

“You got Coach to write one for you?” Kira asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yeah,” Stiles said as he forced his eyes to stay on Kira’s face. “I guess he was impressed that I helped Scott and Isaac make the team.”

“Well,” Scott said with a huge grin, “I did score the winning goal in the championship game, how can he not be grateful?”

All three of them groaned as Scott continued grinning at them.

“You are never going to let us forget that, are you?” Isaac asked as he scrubbed a hand over his face.

“Never,” Scott teased as he wrapped his arm around Isaac’s shoulder, kissing his cheek.

“What’s up, losers,” Cora said as she dumped her bag onto the bleachers before plopping down next to Kira.

“Oh look,” Isaac said sarcastically while rolling his eyes, “it’s my favorite Hale. Don’t you have class, sophomore?”

Cora just flipped him her middle finger. “With the winter finals schedule, we have a lot more study sessions blocked out.”

“I can’t wait until finals are over,” Scott groaned as he dropped his head on Isaac’s shoulder. “Only two left and one of them is the hardest one.”

“I was kind of hoping one of you would be able to help me with some of my math stuff,” Cora said a little shyly, her eyes darting to Kira for a moment before they dropped back down to her text book, “it’s what I need the most help on.”

Trying not to smirk, Stiles turned to his friend, “Kira, you’d be able to help Cora, right?” He could feel Cora’s eyes burning into him, but he just smiled pleasantly as he waited for her to respond.

“Of course!” Kira responded brightly. She closed her history book and scooted closer to Cora, taking the open text from her hands to get a better look at it.

“Dad told me if I don’t do well on the test then I can’t attend the Hale Christmas Party,” Cora explained as she tried to hide her blushing cheeks behind her notes, “so maybe I should fail on purpose.”

“Hale Christmas Party?” Isaac asked as he looked up from his phone.

“Yeah,” Cora said with an annoyed sigh, “it’s just a big, fancy party my parents throw every year for their clients, family, and close family friends. It’s kind of boring really. I have to just stand there and listen to dumb things the adults say while they pinch my cheeks and tell me what a beautiful young lady I’ve grown into.”

“But I bet the food is good,” Scott said thoughtfully as he chewed on the eraser of his pencil.

Cora shrugged her shoulders. “I guess. Although, it is fun to watch girls trip over themselves to talk to Derek,” she said loud enough for Jennifer to hear.

Jennifer turned in her seat, scowling at Cora who just waved her fingers and smiled politely.

“Please, Cora,” Jennifer said as she flipped her hair over her shoulder, “at least try to pretend like you were raised with manners.”

“Always a pleasure, Jennifer,” Stiles said before Cora could say something she would regret.

“Stilinski,” Jennifer sneered before she turned back to her friend group, loudly talking about how good Derek looked on the court. 

Stiles followed her line of sight to where Derek was standing against the cooler, getting a drink of water. He could hear Jennifer talking about how she made sure her dress would match Derek’s dress shirt at the party, and that they would surely dance the night away. Maybe if she was lucky, she would be able to steal a kiss under the mistletoe. 

He abruptly got up, dislodging some of his stuff. “I have to go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

His friends just gave him a strange look before shrugging their shoulders and returning to their studies. Stiles stumbled down the stairs, his stomach twisting into knots. He was once again reminded that it didn’t matter what he wanted. Derek wasn’t his. Would never be his. The thought made him feel dizzy and as he nearly tripped into the men’s locker room he accidently ran into somebody.

“Watch where you’re going, Stilinski!”

Stiles gripped the half open door, blinking in surprise at how raw and rough that familiar voice sounded. He looked up to see Jackson glaring at him, but the boy’s eyes were slightly swollen and a little bit red.

“Jackson,” Stiles asked immediately, “are you okay?”

“It’s none of your business,” Jackson snapped as he shoved past Stiles, shoulder-checking him. Hard. 

Stiles grimaced as he grabbed his now throbbing shoulder. He would normally ignore Jackson, brush it off as his typical asshole behavior, but he had never seen Jackson look so upset. Of course he had been pissed about games, but Jackson didn’t cry. So Stiles sucked in a deep breath, already regretting the words coming out of his mouth.

“For what it’s worth, Jackson,” he called after the blonde, surprised to see Jackson had even stopped, “I know Lydia loves you a lot. I knew I never really stood a chance. Besides,” he paused his eyes finding Derek again, “I think I always liked someone else anyway. Lydia was just a distraction from what I could never really have.”

He watched Derek throw his head back and laugh as he walked backwards on the court, Boyd right next to him, smiling as they talked. He sighed, shaking his head as he pushed the door open, but Jackson’s voice, so small, so quiet caught him off guard.

“Lydia and I got into a fight.”

Stiles half turned, watching Jackson over his shoulder carefully. Jackson was facing Stiles now, but he was looking in the area between the bleachers, like he found the black metal beams particularly interesting.

“We had this plan,” Jackson continued after a long moment, “to go to Columbia together, but last night she told me she wanted to go to Brown instead.”

“You know you can’t stop Lydia when she puts her mind to something,” Stiles said with a half smile.

Jackson snorted. “I know. I don’t want to stop her,” he continued as he looked at Stiles. “I would never stop her from going to Brown if it was her dream school.”

“But?” Stiles asked with a raised eyebrow.

“But,” Jackson replied snarkily, before the venom dropped from his voice, “but it caught me off guard. I was afraid if we went to different schools, we would break up because she’s Lydia fucking Martin and anyone would be lucky to be with her. So, instead, I picked a fight and now she thinks I want to hold her back.”

Stiles hesitantly took a step forward, slowly reaching out to squeeze Jackson’s shoulder. When he wasn’t immediately met with a growl or a slap of a hand he relaxed. “Jackson, just tell her how you feel. If you two really are end game, then you’ll find a way to make it work.”

Jackson gave Stiles a skeptical look, but there was the smallest hint of softness in his face. “You think so?”

Stiles nodded, offering Jackson a small smile. “Lydia’s the hardest working person I know, you just got to be willing to meet her halfway.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Jackson replied thoughtfully before scowling, “but you didn’t hear that from me.”

Stiles raised his hands up in mock surrender. “I was never here.”

“Damn right,” Jackson said as his haughty attitude returned full force. He turned, heading back out to the gym when he stopped and threw Stiles an almost smile. “Thanks, Stilinski. Whoever you like would be lucky to have you.”

Stiles snapped his mouth closed to keep his jaw from dropping to the floor. That was probably the nicest thing Jackson had ever said to him and it sounded like he meant it too. Jackson disappeared back into the group of students gathered around the bleachers. Stiles watched him go until he was - yet again - drawn to where Derek was standing. Jackson was wrong. Derek wouldn’t be lucky to have Stiles.

Stiles would be lucky to have Derek.

* * *

Derek watched Laura gliding over the dance floor in a beautiful dark-maroon evening gown. The soft velvet material flowed with her movements as her boyfriend, Jordan Parrish, led her through the crowd, all eyes on them. They were the stars of the evening and Derek wouldn’t have been surprised if Jordan ended up proposing either this evening or sometime over their week away at the ski resort they stayed at for Christmas. Derek didn’t mind one bit and he knew Cora felt the same. The more eyes on Laura meant the less eyes on either of them. Derek felt a little bad for his sister. Growing up, he could see her beginning to crack under pressure, especially throughout high school. College had been a breath of fresh air for her, a chance to escape their father’s watchful eye for a while, but he knew she could never be too wild or crazy without repercussions.

At least she loved Jordan. Really, truly loved him. And he loved her. Derek could tell by the way he looked at Laura - like she was the sun, moon, stars, and the entire universe - that would be happy together. Derek wasn’t sure he could say the same for himself. Derek felt a flutter of butterflies as he watched Stiles brush past a couple, picking up empty champagne glasses. He had been hired for the evening to help serve and clean since this was one of their biggest events of the year. Every so often he would catch Stiles’ eye, the boy giving him a tender smile in return before he was pulled away by his duties. 

Derek wondered what would happen if the music suddenly changed, the soft ballad of  _ Yoko Ono _ humming from the speakers. Would people turn their heads, cover their mouths in a scandalized fashion when Derek walked up to Stiles and asked him to dance? Would the lights dim around them as they moved across an empty floor, Derek’s hand at Stiles’ waist to pull him flush against Derek’s chest? Would Stiles blush, his cheeks the same bright red as the cape he wore Halloween night? Would he lay his head against Derek’s shoulder so Derek could nestle his chin in that messy brown hair? Would Derek be brave enough to do what he should have in Stiles’ house as the  _ Star Wars  _ credits rolled behind them?

“Derek,” Jennifer said as she gripped his arm, “walk with me?”

Derek downed the rest of his drink before properly offering his arm to Jennifer. He ignored that terrible itch beneath his skin as her nails dug into his suit jacket, as though clinging to him for dear life was the only way she could hold onto him. They strolled down the hallway just outside of the ballroom, the music not as loud and the crowd a little thinner. He had been swept onto the dance floor a few times with Jennifer, and the only thing that made him feel more sick than her breathy sighs against his neck was the pleased smile his father gave them. At least he didn’t need to say much when Jennifer was around, she did most of the talking. It was different than when Stiles talked. Derek loved to listen to Stiles talk.

“My, don’t you two make a lovely couple,” Mr. Blake said with a pleasant smile as Derek and Jennifer circled back towards the ballroom, stopping at just one of the entrances where their fathers were standing.

“Father,” Jennifer laughed as she tucked in closer to Derek, “don’t embarrass us. We just went for a walk.” 

“Your father tells me your basketball season is starting up,” Mr. Blake said as he addressed Derek.

Before Derek could respond, Jennifer was already talking over him. “Father, you should see him play! He is the best on the court.”

“Yes,” Michael said as he placed a hand on Derek’s shoulder, squeezing it to the point that it was almost uncomfortable, “we are hoping his basketball season goes much better than his lacrosse season did.”

Derek swallowed his retort because he knew it was pointless to remind his father that they had won the state championship. It would only lead to his father talking about how he didn’t score a single goal and how he could have been the  _ hero _ of the game. Derek knows, because it had happened several times at dinner since the game. Derek tried to avoid the topic all together.

“Well,” Jennifer said, turning so she was facing him, her smile all teeth, “he will have the best cheerleader on the sidelines to help lead him to victory.”

Mr. Blake and Michael chuckled and Derek forced himself to do the same, hoping his face conveyed some sort of endearing look. He wondered if Cora was around. Maybe if he made eye contact with her, she would take pity and come save him. Just as he was scanning the crowded ballroom, he heard Jennifer say something that made his blood run cold.

“Mistletoe!” Jennifer cried as she pointed to the plant hanging above their heads.

Derek slowly titled his head to catch a glimpse of the bright green leaves speckled with white berries, all bundled together by a red bow. To Derek, it was more of a symbol of self destruction than adoring love. He knew he should have pulled his gaze away, but he couldn’t show the others the absolute look of anguish that had consumed his face.

“Well,” Mr. Blake said in a mocking chaste voice, “it is nearly Christmas and those are the rules.”

He let Jennifer take the lead, screaming at himself to relax. It wasn’t like this had been the first time her lips were against his, but instead of feeling nothing, Derek felt like he wanted to cry. It only lasted a few seconds at best, but when it was done he felt like he was gasping, lungs begging for oxygen in the worst way. Jennifer giggled, cheeks flushing pink, and Derek barely had a moment to compose his expression into something that looked just as pleased by the event. They bid their father’s a good evening before returning to the ballroom. Jennifer managed to drag him into another dance before he could escape.

He felt like he was going to vibrate out of his own skin, like he wanted to escape this prison of a body if it meant he could be free. The only thing making it worse was that Stiles was avoiding looking at him all together. Had he seen them kiss? What would he think of Derek if he did? Would he think Derek was like everyone else? That he just wanted to coast through life on his parents’ money, only interacting with those that could elevate his status?

_ The right people _ . 

Even when Gerard wasn’t here, the older man was always in his head. Always making him second guess himself and the things he wanted. After the dance was finished, Derek took his opportunity to run, even if it was just for a moment. He let muscle memory carry him to the one spot he knew he would be safe.  Derek exhaled deeply, his breath like a faint wisp of cloud in the freezing air. He leaned against the wood railing, the cold growing uncomfortable against his bare skin, but he ignored it. The soft hum of the music from the party carried across the winter wind, reminding him that his escape was temporary and fleeting. Only servants ever used this balcony to sneak smoke breaks during big events and since they had all hands on deck, he knew he wouldn’t be disturbed. He traced his thumb over his lips, the feeling of Jennifer’s teeth digging in making him shiver. The taste of expensive champagne and her cherry lipstick still lingered on his tongue. He bit down on the inside of his cheek, the only thing stopping the bile from rising up his throat. 

He’d kissed Jennifer before, but this one felt like he was sealing his fate as their fathers watched on proudly. It was an invisible signature to a marriage proposal that hadn’t been written yet. They didn’t need to be official to be  _ official _ . Derek didn’t need to publicly ask her to be his because everyone knew that, in four years, after they had graduated college, he would be taking her as his wife. They would fill every magazine cover, articles running about the wedding of the year as two powerfully rich families combined into one.  _ A power couple _ . Maybe someone would write that. Maybe someone would see through his forced smiles and know that he was dying on the inside. Maybe no one would notice at all. 

“Hey,” that voice, that beautifully familiar voice, startled Derek, “you okay?”

Stiles was leaning against the door frame, hands in his pockets, tie loosened around his neck. He had finally ditched the jacket that most of the workers had been wearing earlier in the evening, sleeves rolled back neatly to his elbows. It was hardly appropriate, considering they were barely past the middle of the party, but Stiles had never really been one to blend in.

“How did you find me?” Derek asked as he watched fresh snowflakes tumble into Stiles’ hair, tickling his lashes, brushing against his pale skin.

“You mean the secret balcony Peter uses to take smoke breaks when your father’s clients are driving him up a wall?” Stiles cocked an eyebrow as he stepped outside, running a hand through his hair, dislodging the fresh snow.

“Guess I’m more like Peter than my own father,” Derek said with a snort, thinking of how he saw the older man and Chris Argent sneaking back to the party. 

“Not a bad thing,” Stiles noted as he came to stand next to Derek, their arms touching. “But you’re not out here to smoke.”

[Derek](https://open.spotify.com/track/7e3SROp6VaekpMnbFKJjqt?si=Gtd5z6XOQ-6Cv4513gfAZg) looked away from Stiles because he couldn’t handle that all-knowing look in those honey-whiskey eyes.

“I just needed a second to breathe,” Derek murmured because it was the truth. 

It was all he was allowed anyway. A second to breathe. An instant to put himself together. A moment to gather his thoughts. 

“I think you need more than a second,” Stiles said softly, tilting his head to the side.

“How do you know what I need?” Derek asked more harshly than he meant to. Stiles didn’t flinch away though, his lips just pressing into a thin line as he brushed off the light dusting of snow from the railing.

Derek watched his nimble fingers move across the wood and he realized Stiles was waiting for him to speak, like he was respecting Derek’s space. “Sorry,” he quickly said. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Derek,” Stiles said, trying to catch his eye, “you don’t need to apologize for saying how you feel. I imagine it can’t be easy to constantly keep up appearances because, apparently, the only emotion you’re allowed to show is that you’re one big happy and self-respecting family.”

“We don’t really have a choice,” Derek told him with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “Cora’s fighting it now, but eventually she’ll be just like Laura and I.”

“You deserve better,” Stiles breathed and Derek could see it curling in the air.

“I’ll survive,” Derek muttered, but that sounded like a lie.

He watched Stiles pull his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes suddenly sad. Derek hated to see him look that way, especially over something Derek had said.

“Hey, I got you something,” Stiles suddenly said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small black box. “Just a little Christmas gift.”

Derek raised an eyebrow as he took the present from Stiles, his stomach fluttering as their fingers touched. Stiles gave him an encouraging smile, gesturing towards the gift for Derek to open it. Derek pulled off the blue ribbon it was wrapped in before taking the lid off. Sitting in the white tissue paper was a little black keychain. A wolf. Derek carefully picked it up, eyes running over it eagerly. It was wooden, carved, handmade, and very lifelike. The fur looked soft, like he could run his fingers through it, the eyes an electric blue. Derek placed the wolf back into the box, tucking it into his pocket.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely, not really having any other words to convey what the gift meant to him.

Stiles’ too big, too bright smile was slowly creeping over his face. “I was out shopping with Kira at this cool antique store and, well, when I saw it I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“Stiles,” Derek said, suddenly feeling guilty he didn’t have a gift in return, “I don’t—”

Stiles held up his hand. “People don’t give gifts because they expect them in return. I wanted to get it for you because I thought it would make you happy.” 

And then it hit Derek, like a wave crashing against the shore, thunderous and all consuming. He was moving before he could stop himself, before he could take away his last chance of finding one goddamn moment of happiness that was all his own. His hands were cupping Stiles’ cheeks, thumbs moving over the cold skin before he brought their lips together. He knew it had caught Stiles’ off guard, but the boy’s moment of hesitation quickly melted away and Derek felt something like a sob ripple through his chest as Stiles pulled him closer. The more of Stiles he tasted, the hungrier he became. He couldn’t get enough, could never get enough as Stiles’ tongue licked hot against his mouth. 

And this, this was  _ fucking real _ .

Stiles’ cold fingers magically slipped beneath Derek’s shirt, finding his skin, sending goosebumps rippling like waves in a pond. Derek just held onto him, memorizing every inch of his lips, wanting -  _ craving _ \- to discover the beauty that was Stiles Stilinski. When the boy bared his neck, it was like something wild and feral had been awakened in Derek. He traced his teeth along Stiles’ pulse point, wanting to bite and suck and have Stiles begging for more. When their lips met again Derek could have sworn he felt something wet trail down his cheeks, only to be gently brushed away by steady hands that held his face like he was Stiles’ entire goddamn world.

It was the sound of something crashing further down the hallway that startled both of them. Derek’s eyes were quickly on the door, terrified that someone had caught them, that someone had seen. There were no scandalized glances or gasps of surprise, but Derek felt shaken all the same. He looked at Stiles, who was looking right back at him, pupils blown wide, lips swollen and pink. For a moment they held each other’s gazes, their chests rising and falling in sync with one another.

Stiles looked so fucking beautiful.

He looked so beautiful and Derek wanted to cry again or maybe he never stopped and he wanted to tell Stiles so many things. All those words, all of those feelings were just ripping a hole right through his chest, but he didn’t say a goddamn word. 

Wrong people. Right people. 

Derek didn’t care about any of it because he just wanted  _ Stiles _ . 

“Derek…” Stiles’ voice was soft, pleading, asking a question that neither of them wanted to answer because, really, what the fuck could they be?

“Stiles I—” Derek started, but then stopped, because he still didn’t have the words, or maybe they weren’t the right words, or maybe he just wanted to pretend for just a moment longer. 

“I know,” Stiles replied like it was the simplest thing in the entire world.

Derek wished, more than anything, that it could be simple.


	2. After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles liked to categorize his life in two ways: a before and an after.
> 
> When he was younger he counted them in silly ways. Before he saw Star Wars and after. Before he got his first buzz cut and after. Before he had met Scott and after. Before his mother got sick and after. Not that there was much after that.   
> Before his mother died and after.
> 
> From there he had been perpetually stuck in the after of Claudia’s death. Maybe he should have gotten over it. Some people had said as much. It had gotten easier, over time, but it still clung to him like a shadow, hovering in the back of his mind, reminding him that the monster that took her was coming for him. It was always just two steps behind, haunting the dark corners of his life. That’s what it was like living in the after of Claudia Stilinski.
> 
> Now he had a new before. A new after.
> 
> Before Derek Hale had kissed him and after.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who has waited for part 2! And thank you so much for reading part one, it means a lot to me! Just a few things to go over before I send you on your way.
> 
> 1\. This chapter has not been beta read, it's just been looked over by myself a couple times, so i apologize if there's any mistakes. i may add an edited version later (if i haven't died yet good lord editing this thing is hard)
> 
> 2\. This chapter has music in it as well! Just like last time the music for the "scene" starts where the word is underlined if you'd like to have the added experience of listening to certain songs for certain parts.
> 
> 3\. I figured I would include the entire playlist here if anyone ever just wants to listen to it. The songs are in order of their appearance in the story, so enjoy! [Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2LusNYVHNKCC2jTV3xEiEN?si=rs6jLSiqTkynbr4_9-e4lg)
> 
> 5\. A few warnings for this chapter: almost sexual assault warning and discussions of mental health
> 
> 4\. i can never thank reece enough for supporting me through this entire fic so thank you again you are seriously the best!

_ After _

Stiles liked to categorize his life in two ways: a  _ before _ and an  _ after _ .

When he was younger he counted them in silly ways. Before he saw  _ Star Wars _ and after. Before he got his first buzz cut and after. Before he had met Scott and after. Before his mother got sick and after. Not that there was much after that. 

Before his mother died and after.

From there he had been perpetually stuck in the  _ after _ of Claudia’s death. Maybe he should have gotten over it. Some people had said as much. It had gotten easier, over time, but it still clung to him like a shadow, hovering in the back of his mind, reminding him that the monster that took her was coming for him. It was always just two steps behind, haunting the dark corners of his life. That’s what it was like living in the  _ after _ of Claudia Stilinski.

Now he had a new  _ before.  _ A new  _ after _ .

Before Derek Hale had kissed him and after.

There wasn’t a conversation. No calls. No texts. It was like Derek had dropped off the face of the planet, propelling himself into an entirely different galaxy. Derek Hale had kissed him like a man starved of oxygen, like Stiles meant  _ everything _ to him, and then he just left. Of course, Stiles knew it was a two way street and that, in reality, Derek was only a couple of hours away. He had typed up several messages - paragraphs laced with all caps and exclamation points - before promptly deleting them. His finger hovered over Derek’s name, daring himself to hit  _ call _ , but he never did. He finally settled on two words sitting in the text draft, waiting, just fucking waiting to be sent. 

_ What now? _

Stiles wasn’t an idiot. He knew how Derek’s family worked. He knew Michael Hale well enough that his son dating a boy -  _ a boy like Stiles Stilinksi _ \- would never be allowed. Ever. He knew they couldn’t be something without consequences. Consequences that wouldn’t be worth it. Because Stiles wasn’t worth it. Not when Derek had his whole life ahead of him, balanced on his father’s desires and demands. 

That didn’t stop him from wanting it though. Because Stiles wanted it more than anything. He couldn’t stop thinking about Derek. He couldn’t let go of the feel of his stubble rubbing against his cheek. His bunny-toothed smile and deep laugh. His calloused fingers tugging through Stiles’ hair. His teeth dragging against the delicate skin of his neck. The way his heart burst like confetti as their lips met. 

Two worlds. One world. Their world.

He thought about Derek when he helped his friends decorate holiday cookies before falling on the couch and watching their favorite Christmas movies together. He thought about Derek as he and Scott cheered on their parents while they stood under the mistletoe. He thought about Derek as they opened presents by the tiny tree that they somehow stuffed into the corner of their living room. Derek was his last thought before he went to sleep and the first thought as he awoke.

The week  _ after _ the kiss passed by like a blur. Stiles felt like he was half asleep, like he wasn’t ready to let go of the dream of Derek Hale being his. Because he knew when he did -  _ when he had to  _ \- it would destroy him. He’d already let Derek go once and Stiles wasn’t sure he would survive it a second time. 

_ What now? _

The drafted text was still there. Collecting dust like a long forgotten antique that nobody wanted. He tried not to look at it as Scott pulled him from the couch, arms wrapping around his shoulders as he, Kira, and Isaac counted down to the new year. Derek would be the last thought of the old year and the first thought of the new one. The cheers of “Happy New Year” made his ears ring, but he grinned as he watched Isaac pull Scott into a sloppy kiss (thanks to the champagne they had snuck from Lydia). He turned, sharing a quick peck with Kira so neither of them were left out of the celebration. He was in the middle of Scott planting one on his forehead when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He quickly pulled it out, ducking into the hallway for a moment. He felt his heart leap into his throat, his fingers gripping his phone tightly.

_ Derek: Happy New Year, Stiles _

And maybe, just maybe Derek was thinking of Stiles too. Maybe Stiles had been Derek’s last thought of the old year and his first though in the new one. He stared down at the  _ What now?  _ hovering in the void of no man’s land. He could have sent it, because now Stiles really needed to know. He needed an answer. He needed to know if his world was about to fall apart before it all began. His fingers worked quickly, typing against the keyboard.

_ Stiles: Happy New Year, Derek _

It wasn’t a question, a demand, or a declaration. It was Stiles and Derek gazing at each other from opposite shores wondering how to close the distance between them. 

* * *

Stiles didn’t know what to expect when he returned to work the following week. They still had one week of winter break before their spring semester started, which meant both Derek and Cora were home from school. Cora greeted him with a huge grin and a warm hug. She caught him up on all that happened while they were away on their trip as he worked around the barn.She said that she and Derek had their own rooms this year which meant they could avoid Kate and Gerard - and their father - as much as possible. Cora talked about Allison, Chris and Victoria’s daughter, with whom they only saw when their families took vacations together. From the way she talked about Allison, Stiles suspected it was someone whom Cora had a crush on a long time ago.

“But Derek was being weird,” Cora hummed as she kicked her legs in the air from the table she was sitting on as she watched Stiles move about the barn.

“What?” Stiles asked as he tripped over his own feet. Cora gave him an unimpressed raise of her eyebrow as he quickly pulled himself back together. “Weird in what way?” He cursed himself for not sounding more casual about it.

“It was like,” she paused, a thoughtful look passing over her face, “it was like he was somewhere else.”

Stiles wished he knew where. After day two it was apparent that Derek was avoiding him. Maybe Stiles had been wrong and the text was a way of saying goodbye. It wouldn’t be the first time their relationship had been ended by distance rather than words. Maybe he would go into the station and see Derek and Jennifer on the cover of the latest magazine, an engagement ring glistening on her finger. Maybe Derek would look more like a stranger - like he did all those years ago - than the boy who had kissed Stiles like tomorrow would never come.

_ “Melissa should be here soon,” his father said as he gave Stiles’ shoulder a gentle squeeze, offering him a tired smile that didn’t really reach his eyes, “why don’t you go sit in the waiting area and Tara will bring you some hot chocolate.” _

_ “Do you have to go back to work today?” Stiles asked as he dug the toe of his shoe into the coffee stained carpet.  _

_ He could hear his dad sigh heavily. He knew they’d had this conversation several times over the past few days. He wasn’t ready to let go of his dad yet. Not that they did much at home besides stare at the television, not really watching, more just like existing. Existing without her. But they had each other and now Stiles would have to face the real world again. Summer was coming to an end and he would be starting school. At least he would get to see Derek and Laura. He hadn’t seen them since the funeral, and even then it had been from a distance. Derek didn’t even hug him.  _

_ He wished he could go back to the day they were watching the clouds go by. It seemed like forever ago that Derek promised he would never let Stiles go. He supposed even the best of people could lie. His mother had, when she said she would be fine, so maybe Derek had too. _

_ “Stiles,” Noah said, “you’ll get to see Scott and I hear he’s been missing you.” _

_ “I’ve missed Scott too,” Stiles said with a small nod of his head, a small knot untwisting in his stomach. “Okay, I’ll go wait.” _

_ His dad gave his shoulder another squeeze before he stood up, heading towards his office while Stiles turned, and shuffled over to the sea of arm chairs. There was an old, wooden coffee table littered with old newspapers and magazines. Stiles picked through them, looking for one that had the puzzles and mazes he could doodle in to pass the time. He paused his sorting as he pulled a big magazine with a family portrait as the cover to the edge of the table where he was standing. In big white and black letters across the top it read: “Beacon Hill’s Million Dollar Heroes: How the Hale Family Built this Town from the Ground Up” _

_ Stiles could see that it was dated for this month which meant that the picture and the articles following it were recent. He could see Michael sitting in a large chair, Talia just behind him, one hand on the chair and the other on Laura’s shoulder. Cora was standing just in front of her sister and Derek was on his father’s right side. Stiles traced his fingers over Talia’s face, Laura’s shark toothed grin across the page until they were resting against Derek’s chest. His eyes, those beautiful grey-green eyes that Stiles named a tree after looked strange.  _

_ Unrecognizable. Dead. Gone.  _

_ These people that Stiles had come to think of as his family looked like someone he didn’t know. How could he not know Laura? How could he not know Derek? Derek! The same Derek that was everything to him. This Derek wasn’t the Derek that splashed through the hidden pools of the reserve, or stayed up late telling scary stories, watching the stars shine brightly in the sky. He wasn’t the person that Stiles raced around the house with, tackling each other to the ground, laughing until their sides hurt. He wasn’t the person Stiles thought about right before he fell asleep and ached to see when they were apart for too long. This wasn’t bunny teeth, Derek’s Tree, “never let you go” Derek that he loved.  _

_ This Derek was the Derek that stood miles away from him on one of the worst days of his life.  _

_ Stiles suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe. _

[ “Hey.” ](https://open.spotify.com/track/5VwdbTZVTIpdaYXCvDvNse?si=vqX6m09ZTdCBOVXX_J3IZw)

Stiles looked up from what he was doing to see Derek standing just in front of the closed barn door. Ever since Derek had kissed him he wondered how he would feel seeing him again, especially after he knew Derek had been avoiding him the past five days. He knew he should have felt hurt, angry, maybe even scared, but all he felt was a need to close the distance between them and kiss him again.

“Hi.” Stiles said as he swallowed the lump in his throat. 

Maybe Derek was here to finally break it off, tell him the kiss was just that: a kiss. A one time, fleeting moment that could never happen again. Stiles was suddenly bracing himself for the inevitable, his throat constricting and chest tightening. He knew it couldn’t be. Why would wanting it with everything that he was make it any different?

Derek took a careful step forward, hand running through his hair. “I told myself I had to stay away from you because this thing between us,” he said, his voice cracking as he motioned between them, “can’t be.”

Stiles bit down on his trembling lip, trying hard not to look away. But it hurt. He knew it was coming and it still fucking hurt.

“Derek,” he tried to say, his voice rough and raw, “you don’t need-”

“My father expects so much from me.” Derek continued, cutting Stiles off. “He wants me to do this, be that. Score the winning goal. Follow in his footsteps. Marry Jennifer because it’s good for the business.”

Stiles watched him as he paced angrily, his face alive with fiery passion, jaw clenched in anger, fist clenching and unclenching as he moved. 

“I thought if I took my one chance of happiness for just a moment then it would be enough.” Derek said as he stopped, turning to face Stiles fully now.

“Was it?” Stiles whispered, terrified of the answer.

“No.” It was so quiet Stiles wasn’t sure he had heard it, but he didn’t need to as he looked into those eyes. “I can’t stay away from you, Stiles.”

“Derek…” Stiles groaned. Because it didn’t matter, it wouldn’t matter because they could never be anything more than what they were.

“I know,” Derek said, shaking his head, “I know. But, what if we said screw it. You and me be  _ something _ .” He laughed, but it sounded hollow. “Maybe something secret and I know that sounds selfish, but I don’t know any other way to be with you, but god I want to. So be with me.”

Stiles just stared at Derek, his jaw dropping slightly, not believing the words out of his mouth. Derek wanted him. Derek wanted to be with him. Derek wanted to risk everything for him.

“Stiles,” Derek said again, his voice pleading, “be with me.”

“Yes.” Stiles said without hesitation as he moved forward to do the one thing he had wanted to do since Derek had found him. Their lips met hungrily, teeth knocking against each other in their desperation, but neither really cared. “Yes. Yes. Yes”

Derek grinned into Stiles’ lips, his big, warm hands coming up to cup Stiles’ jaw. Stiles had his fingers wrapped around Derek’s shirt as he pulled him closer. Stiles moved slowly against Derek, licking his way into the boy’s mouth wanting to taste as much of Derek as he could. He pushed Derek against the wall, fingers fumbling to make sure the barn door was locked before they tangled in Derek’s hair. Derek was no longer kissing him like a man starved for oxygen, but as someone who was savoring every single little second between them. Stiles smiled as he kissed the corner of Derek’s mouth before peppering kisses against his jaw, nibbling his way to Derek’s neck. He knew he couldn’t leave marks there no matter how much he wanted to.

He gripped Derek’s jacket, removing it from his shoulders as his teeth traced along Derek’s pulse point. He could feel Derek shudder beneath him, his breath hot against Stiles’ ear. He traced his fingers along the collar of the dark green Henley before pulling the material down to bare Derek’s beautiful collarbone. Stiles sunk his teeth into the delicate skin, licking and sucking until it turned a daring shade of purple. Derek titled his head back, a throaty moan saturating the tense air. Stiles felt his blood rush down, the feel of Derek growing hard against his thigh making him want more. He worked his way across Derek’s skin before Derek eagerly brought their lips back together. Stiles rested his hands against Derek’s hips, fingers drumming against his waistline. 

“Stiles…” Derek groaned after a moment, rolling his hips against Stiles.

“Are you sure?” Stiles asked, pulling back to fix Derek with a serious look. Stiles had hooked up with both guys and girls over the summer when he worked at the camp, but he knew Derek wasn’t out. He didn’t want to push Derek into doing anything he didn’t want to do.

Derek nodded his head. “Yes. Please.”

Stiles licked his lips, watching Derek’s pupils widen as he did so. Stiles hooked his thumbs under Derek’s jeans and the waistband of his boxers, ghosting across his molten skin. Derek rolled his hips again, pressing his lips against Stiles to stifle the debauched noise clawing its way up his throat. Stiles pulled Derek’s bottom lip between his teeth, gently pulling on it as he made quick work of Derek’s jeans.

Stiles dropped to his knees, pulling down the jeans and the black boxers to Derek’s mid thigh. Stiles took Derek into his mouth, tongue flicking over the head, pleased at the sounds Derek made as he backed into the wall for support. Stiles hummed as he went deeper, licking up Derek’s length, keeping his hands against Derek’s hips to hold him still. He started slow, enjoying the weight of Derek against his tongue and the bitter sweet taste of sweat, and musk, and boy. 

“Stiles please.” Derek panted, his fingers curling into Stiles’ hair.

Stiles smiled as he increased his speed, feeling himself grow harder as Derek’s wrecked noises echoed in the barn. He let one of his hands slip into his pants as he continued to work over Derek’s dick. He sighed around Derek, causing the boy to shiver before he came down Stiles’ throat. Stiles swirled his tongue over the tip, coming as Derek shuddered against him, whining softly. Derek didn’t waste any time, pulling Stiles back up so he could kiss him fiercely.

“Good thing it’s the end of my work day.” Stiles ginned, biting his lip before he kissed Derek again. They both sank to the floor, Derek laying his head in Stiles’ lap after making himself decent. Stiles ran his fingers through Derek’s hair, humming as he closed his eyes, leaning his head against the wall. 

They sat in silence for a few moments, knowing they didn’t have too long before someone could find them, but Stiles pressed his free hand lightly against Derek’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. It was steady and true and he wished he could fall asleep to its soothing rhythm.

“Are you sure you want to date me?” Stiles asked, the words slipping from his tongue before he could stop himself. “Or, well secretly date me.”

Derek shifted, displacing Stiles’ hand as he sat up. His brow was furrowed in a way that reminded Stiles of when they were younger. A half smile ghosted his face as Derek reached out, his hand hesitating slightly - like he was afraid - until Stiles leaned into his touch, warm palm against his flushed cheek.

“Why wouldn’t I want to be with you?” Derek asked, face soft and slightly pained.

“What if I’m not worth the risk.” Stiles murmured.

_ What if I end up just like my mother. What if I forget. What if I lose you just as you become mine.  _

Derek leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. Stiles fisted the front of his shirt to keep Derek there as he deepened the kiss for a moment, not knowing when he would be able to do this again. When they broke apart Derek leaned his forehead against his.

“You are.” Derek whispered. “I’m sorry it has to be like this. Maybe someday I’ll be ready to face the truth, but not yet, not today.”

“And I’ll be there by your side when you do.” Stiles said, giving him a smile.

They lingered like that for a moment longer before Derek pulled himself to his feet, bidding Stiles a goodnight. Stiles watched him go. Despite the absolute feeling of happiness and something akin to that electric magic vibrating in his skin as Derek pulled him onto his shore, Stiles couldn’t help, but see the hurricane forming in the distance. 

* * *

Stiles felt like he and Derek had fallen into a bubble, a carved out, tiny space just for the two of them. Sometimes Derek would follow Stiles around the barn as the two of them would talk for hours on end, continuing the conversation over text after Stiles had left for the day. Sometimes they would find pockets of time where they could be alone at Stiles’ house when his father was at work. Derek thought doing anything other than making out when he knew at least one person was home at the Hale mansion too dangerous. Stiles didn’t mind too much. One evening they had gotten away with giving each other blow jobs in the boy’s locker room after basketball practice. 

Stiles felt like he was constantly playing a game of chess, one wrong move could leave the king vulnerable to attack. It was hard, being what they were. Stiles felt like he was grasping at the seconds, shoving them into his pockets as they spilled over like confetti. He always felt like there wasn’t enough time, never enough time for just the two of them. He knew that was part of the deal. It was better to have some of Derek then none at all. Besides, Stiles was happy. Really happy. 

He fell asleep with the taste of Derek on his tongue, waking to a  _ good morning _ text and his favorite bunny teeth smile whenever they saw each other in the hallways at school. If they were lucky they could share a stolen kiss, pressed up against the lockers in an abandoned hallway, giggling like they ruled the world. Their world at least. To the rest it was like they had once again fallen out of each other’s orbit. Not friends, but not invisible. Stiles marveled at how Derek presented himself to his friends, carrying on as if his world didn’t begin and end with Stiles. He knew Derek had always been good at fooling people, diverting their attention with a handsome smile and words they wanted to hear.

He hated the way Derek tensed around his friends, around Jennifer, curling away from her as she clawed to keep the distance to a minimum. He wanted to tell her to back off and keep her hands to herself. She had no right to treat him the way she did. Sometimes the rage burned like a fire in his stomach, threatening to spill out of his mouth like a dragon. The only thing that tamed his rage was seeing the way Derek relaxed when it was just the two of them. Like his entire body was exhaling a deep breath he had been holding in for hours on end. Stiles wished he could be like this all the time, but these few sacred hours would have to do for now. 

The beginning of the semester and the new year meant college applications had been submitted and hardcore studying wouldn’t hit until midterms came around. While the stress from both of those things had melted away Stiles still felt anxious as he waited to hear back from Berkeley and the other schools he applied to. Not to mention when he wasn’t doing homework or hanging with his friends or Derek he was throwing himself into scholarship applications considering he wouldn’t be able to afford school without them. The only class he had to worry about was Mr. Harris’ as the man had a personal vendetta against him.

“Today we’re going to be partnering up to work on a lab assignment.” Mr. Harris said as he turned, facing the students with a bored expression on his face. Stiles immediately turned to Isaac as the rest of the class began to partner themselves before Mr. Harris stopped them with a small clear of his throat. “I will be choosing your partners.”

The class groaned and Stiles closed his eyes for a moment, knowing that Harris was going to pair him with someone absolutely awful if he could. He listened as Harris read off names, pairing Isaac with some guy named Matt before he heard the worst possible lab partner choice come out of the teacher’s mouth.

“Stilinski you will be paired with Miss Blake.”

Stiles bit down on his tongue to stop himself from shouting at how terrible of an idea that was. Isaac threw him an apologetic look before they were forced to move to the proper tables to begin their lab. Jennifer looked just as unhappy about the arrangement as Stiles did which made him feel a tad bit better. At least it wasn’t a one way street in the suffering department.

“I can start the experiment if you want to draw up the tables.” Stiles mumbled as he began arranging the test tubes.

“Fine.” Jennifer snarled as she roughly pulled out her notebook, slamming it on the table. 

Stiles didn’t want her handling the chemicals on the off chance that she would try to poison him. He wouldn’t put it past her considering the looks she had been sending his way recently. Jennifer was clever and she saw more than she let on, which terrified Stiles. He figured if she knew she would have put a stop to it immediately, going right to Derek’s dad, so they were safe for now. Stiles would just have to make sure they were careful around each other if Jennifer was in sight.

“Derek looks so cute in his baseball tee today.” Jennifer said, her sour demeanor suddenly changing. “The big rival game is coming up in a few weeks and I just know Derek is going to be the star of the game.”

Stiles gritted his teeth as he measured out a few different liquids. Jennifer was baiting him. “Can you hand me the distilled water?” He asked.

“We’re basically dating.” Jennifer hummed as she passed Stiles the squeeze bottle. “We kissed at his parent’s Christmas party, but we’re not into labels right now.”

“That’s nice.” Stiles replied shortly as he concentrated on the beakers in front of him.

“Do you think he’ll give me his basketball hoodie?” Jennifer asked as she tilted her head, dark hair falling over her shoulder as she tried to catch Stiles’ eye.

Stiles stood up straight, shoving two of the beakers in her direction. “Can you watch these and mark when they change from dark red to light pink?”

Jennifer was smiling politely at him and he tried to give her one in return, but it was all teeth before he returned to what he was doing. She kept on, talking about how long she and Derek have been friends and how perfect they were for each other. It was exhausting to listen to and Stile kept glancing up at the clock, willing the class to go by faster. He knew he didn’t have anything to worry about where Derek was concerned. He knew how he really felt about Jennifer, but it was hard to listen to her talk about Derek like they were perfect for each other and Stiles could never compare. If only she knew.

“Jennifer,” Stiles finally growled, “how about we talk less about your obsession with Derek and focus on the actual assignment.”

The look she gave him was practically murderous, but Stiles just didn’t care if it meant she shut up for the last fifteen minutes of class. Her silence only lasted for a few minutes as the sound of a glass breaking against the floor shattered the quiet chatter in the room.

“STILES!” Jennifer shrieked like she had been burned.

Stiles whipped around to see a giant wet stain across Jennifer’s skirt and boots, the beaker in pieces on the floor. Stiles looked from the broken glass to Jennifer in confusion. He hadn’t touched anything considering he was on the other side of the table. Before he could open his mouth to argue Harris had materialized next to them.

“What happened?” He asked in a voice that told his patience had already worn thin.

“Stiles knocked this bottle into me, ruining my skirt!” Jennifer cried in outrage as she glared at Stiles, but underneath it he could see the look of glee in those ice blue eyes. 

“Mr. Stilinski,” Harris huffed, his jaw clenching tightly, “care to explain why you knocked the beaker into Miss Blake when you know the potential dangers of the chemicals we use in this class or are you just that clumsy?”

Stiles felt he had just been knocked sideways by a fucking semi truck. He hadn’t done anything! And now Harris was about to humiliate him in front of the entire class and probably give him a zero for good measure. He was already barely holding onto the A minus he had from all of the stupid points the teacher took off for no good reason.

“Usually we can’t get you to stop talking, Mr. Stilinski,” Harris said as he took a step towards Stiles, all eyes on them, “and now you say nothing at all.”

Stiles swallowed hard. “I didn’t do it.”

“You didn’t do it?” Harris asked with a raised eyebrow. “So you’re telling me Miss Blake purposely did that to herself?”

Stiles glanced over at Jennifer again, his fist clenching and unclenching as he tried not to shout his next words. “I was over here taking notes, I wasn’t near the beaker when it fell.”

“Mr. Harris!” Jennifer whined as she stomped her foot.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Stilinski,” Mr. Harris said as he grabbed the nearest broom, shoving it into Stiles’ hand, “you won’t need to decide between lunch detention and after school detention because you will be serving both today.”

“But-” Stiles began, shaking with anger.

“And I will be taking fifty percent off of your lab grade.” Mr. Harris said as he headed towards the front of the class as the bell rang.

Stiles just stared at Mr. Harris, speechless. He didn’t miss the smug look on Jennifer’s face as he turned to start cleaning up the glass.

“Mr. Lahey if you so much as help Mr. Stilinski you can join him in detention.” Mr. Harris called from the front.

Stiles could see Isaac freeze midstep, giving his friend a wide eyed look before Stiles gave him a half smile to let him know it was okay. After he was finished cleaning Mr. Harris took his phone, stating he would get it back at the end of the day when he served his detentions. He walked numbly to his next classes, knowing he would miss catching Derek for a few minutes before lunch. Lunch detention wasn’t nearly as brutal as the after school detention. Harris made him sit at a table in silence. He couldn’t work on homework or do anything except sit. It was torture, especially when his stomach started growling and twisting uncomfortably from missing lunch. His medicine had started to wear off the longer the detention ran, making him feel antsy and restless in his seat. Harris had let him text his father that he wouldn’t be home until later, before he immediately took the phone back.

By the time Stiles had been released - well past seven in the evening - his father had already left for the night shift and his phone was dead. Stiles collapsed on his bed, too exhausted to bother cooking anything for dinner. He still had a mountain of homework he needed to start on knowing it would be a late night. He felt overwhelmed, wishing, more than anything that his mother was there to talk to. He knew he could have told his dad, but there was already so much on his plate he didn’t want to stress the man out more. Stiles knew he shouldn’t let people like Jennifer Blake and Mr. Harris treat him like they did, but he felt powerless. When it came down to it who would believe him over a teacher and the daughter of a wealthy businessman?

The worst part was that he hadn’t had time to see Derek at all. He at least had his friends to keep him going through the day, but he wanted to talk with Derek, share his troubles and anxieties with him. Stiles sighed heavily as he scrubbed a hand over his face. He could feel tears pricking the corner of his eyes, but he pushed them back with the heel of his hand. Maybe Derek would be awake after he finished his homework and they could have a quick phone call. He regretfully pulled himself from his bed and marched over to his desk. He sat down in his chair, grabbing his books out of his bag to begin.

An hour later a sharp tap against his bedroom window startled him. He had tripped out of his chair, heart pounding as he looked up to see Derek staring at him with an unimpressed eyebrow raised through the glass. Stiles blinked a few times, wondering if he was hallucinating, but when he heard Derek yell his name he scrambled to his feet, quickly unlocking it and letting the boy in.

“Derek?” Stiles asked, mouth gaping slightly as his boyfriend ducted under the window, slipping into Stiles’ bedroom like it was second nature. “What are you doing here?”

Derek frowned as he sat a bag of food down onto the desk, looking Stiles over with concern. “I heard what happened in Harris’ class-” He began, but Stiles quickly cut him off.

“I didn’t do it!” He blurted out, his voice going up an octave. He didn’t mean to sound so panicky, but he was sure Derek had only heard one side of the story. Jennifer’s side. “I wasn’t anywhere near the beaker!”

“Stiles,” Derek said, taking a step forward and gently grabbing Stiles’ arms, “I believe you.”

“I - you what?” Stiles asked. He had braced himself to launch into an explanation and defensive mode, almost a default setting for him most of the time.

“I believe you.” Derek said firmly, like he needed to convince Stiles of the truth in his words. “Jennifer was entirely too smug about the whole thing and I know you would never do something like that.”

Stiles felt his posture relax and he leaned forward, letting himself fall against Derek’s chest. Derek only hesitated for a moment as he wrapped his arms around him. Stiles inhaled deeply, Derek’s body wash and cologne soaked into his basketball hoodie a warm and spicy scent. He felt stubble against his cheek, hot breath against his ear as Derek pulled him a little closer, a little tighter. He noticed that Derek was still hesitant in his movements when it came to Stiles, like he was still working over the idea that he  _ could _ hold Stiles in his arms or kiss him softly. He knew the Hale family wasn’t very affectionate and he wondered how long Derek had gone without someone touching him all the time. Well, most of the time they were together at least because Stiles was just one of those people who liked the feeling of being near someone. He and Scott had always been like that, comfortable with each other, and Isaac and Kira had just adapted to it. Sometimes Stiles wondered if Derek thought he didn’t deserve it.

“I was starting to get worried when I didn’t hear from you after practice.” Derek murmured as he finally pulled away, giving Stiles that concerned glance again.

“Harris took my phone and kept me there until seven.” Stiles said as he peered over Derek’s shoulder to see what he had brought. “Also, how the hell did you get up to my window and why didn’t you use the front door like a normal person?”

Derek smirked as he flexed his biceps. “It wasn’t hard and I thought it would be fun.”

“Yeah,” Stiles scoffed, playfully hitting his arm, “fun to give your boyfriend a heart attack.”

Derek just grinned in return, leaning forward to steal a kiss. Stiles met him halfway, cupping Derek’s face with his hands. When they broke apart Derek was frowning again and Stiles ran his fingers over the grooves in his forehead.

“I’m sorry.” Derek whispered.

“Why are you sorry?” Stiles asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Jennifer shouldn’t have done that and Harris is a dick.” He growled. “It’s not fair that you got punished for something you didn’t do. Even Jackson mentioned that you were on the other side of the table.”

Stiles barked a laugh. “Jackson defended me? Call the church because there is no greater miracle than that.”

“Stiles…” Derek groaned as he leaned his head against Stiles’ shoulder.

“It happens, Derek.” Stiles said with a shrug. “Not much I can do about it.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.” Derek said as he tilted his head so that his grey-green eyes were looking at him sadly. 

“Don’t be such a Sourwolf,” Stiles said with a roll of his eyes before he leaned down and peppered a quick kiss to his boyfriend’s forehead, “I smell curly fries!”

Derek looked slightly perturbed that Stiles was changing the subject so quickly, but his growling stomach was enough of a cry for help that Derek gave in. 

“Scott said you’re bad about eating lunch sometimes,” Derek explained as he pulled a delicious looking burger and fries from the bag, “and with lunch detention and after school detention you probably wouldn’t eat.”

“You talked to Scott?” Stiles asked as he stuffed a handful of fries into his mouth. 

“Scott and I did play lacrosse together.” Derek mumbled. “It’s not out of the ordinary.”

“No, it’s just - I -” Stiles paused, unsure how to express how he was feeling, “thank you.”

Derek gave him a shy, but bright smile in return. They sat on the floor together, eating the food Derek had brought and Stiles began to promptly talk his ear off. Derek nodded and commented when he wanted and talked about how practice went and the big rival game coming up in a few weeks.

“Would you want to come to the game?” Derek asked as Stiles cleaned up their mess.

Stiles paused, turning to look at Derek. He looked nervous, worrying his lip between his teeth as he waited for Stiles to respond. “Of course I would.” He said immediately with a smile.

Derek exhaled, relaxing against Stiles’ bed. “I know it might be weird for you to come to basketball games, but Cora and Peter will be there, so maybe you could sit with them.”

“Cora will be there?” Stiles asked with a slight smirk, a plan already formulating in his mind. When Derek nodded, Stiles continued, “I’m sure I can rally the troops and convince them to go to one major rivalry game.”

“You don’t have to,” Derek said quickly, like it was an inconvenience for Stiles to come at all, “come to the game that is. Most of the school will be there and if it’s not something you’re into then-”

Stiles quickly cut him off with a kiss. “I want to come because it’s important to you.”

“Really?” Derek asked as he looked at Stiles like he wasn’t real. 

Stiles knew the feeling. 

“Really.” Stiles said as he kissed Derek again, this time slower, noses brushing as Derek’s fist wrapped around Stiles’ shirt to pull him closer.

Derek slid down so that he was laying on Stiles’ bed as Stiles carefully climbed on top. He quickly helped Derek out of his hoodie, tossing it to the floor before their lips met again. Derek was always burning beneath Stiles’ touch, like he had lava flowing through his veins. Their first few times felt like a race to the finish, like they were desperate and running out of time to have each other. Now they took their time, trailing kisses, capturing sighs and moans like they were lifeblood. Stiles never knew how much he would love taking Derek Hale apart. It was like an art and he was the artist, moving his hands delicately, with purpose, leaving his mark in places that only he could find. Like a secret painted in shadows.

He savored the taste of Derek on his tongue, memorizing every sound, every thrust, every feel of nails against his back. Derek’s mouth moved criminally good against his dick and he ached to be inside Derek, but knew they needed to take their time. They had tested the waters a few times, teasing a finger or two, but for now their bodies hot and heavy against each other was enough. Tongues swiping against lips and licking into mouths was enough. Feeling Derek flushed against him, feeling him shatter into pieces as Stiles took control was enough. 

Stiles smiled against Derek’s heaving chest as he closed his eyes, listening for the sound of Derek’s heart beat. It was going wild, considering he had just come for the second time, but was slowly working its way down into a steady rhythm. Stiles wanted more than anything to fall asleep listening to that beautiful sound. Derek never stayed, not even on the weekends because it was dangerous. 

_ One day _ , Stiles thought,  _ maybe one day he will stay _ . 

“I should probably get back home,” Derek said as he glanced over at the clock, “before my parents get back from their client dinner.”

“I should probably finish the homework you so rudely interrupted.” Stiles said as he huffed a laugh against Derek’s chest. When he looked up he could see Derek arching one of his eyebrows at him that clearly read  _ Yes, because you didn’t enjoy my interruption _ . “No eyebrow talk.” Stiles said as he hit Derek playfully before slowly - regretfully - getting up from his bed.

“And how do you know what my eyebrows are saying?” Derek asked.

Stiles reached down, gathering up his sweatpants, a shirt, and a hoodie from the ground to throw on. He turned so he was facing Derek, shoving the shirt and hoodie over his head while Derek watched with amusement. 

“Because I know you.” Stiles said before he frowned, realizing the hoodie was slightly too big and definitely not his. When he looked up Derek was giving him the softest expression he had ever seen. Stiles felt his cheeks flushing slightly as he pushed back the sleeves. “What?”

“You’re wearing my hoodie.” Derek murmured, lips curling up into a small smile.

“Yeah,” Stiles said as he rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ignore how Derek’s scent was saturating into his skin, “sorry, I must have grabbed it by mistake.”

He started to pull it off, but Derek quickly got out of the bed, tugging on Stiles’ wrist to stop him. Stiles let go of the fabric, letting it fall back against his waist.

“I want you to keep it.” Derek said, smiling again. “I like seeing you in it.”

“Really?” Stiles asked, poking his tongue out, giving Derek a cocky grin. “You know Jennifer told me she hoped she would get to wear this beauty.”

Derek rolled his eyes as he wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist, pulling him closer. Stiles felt like he could get used to this, draped in Derek’s clothes, safe in his embrace.

“Too bad I already gave it away to someone I like more.” He said as he leaned down, bringing their lips together. 

Stiles wanted to deepen the kiss. He never wanted to let Derek go. He wanted to tell him to stay so they could crawl back into bed together and just hold each other while they sleep. He wanted to wear Derek’s hoodie to the rival game and kiss him on the court when they won. He selfishly wanted so much more, but he knew it wasn’t his turn on the chess board. 

_ “Only if you’re there to cheer me on.” Derek said with a half smile as he looked up at his friend. _

_ “Of course.” Stiles scoffed. “Where else would I go? You can’t get rid of me, Sourwolf!” _

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Derek said as he finally pulled away. 

He moved toward the window, gracefully pulling himself outside. Stiles leaned against the windowsill, a smile tugging at his lips as Derek turned back around, stealing one last kiss. Stiles watched him go before ducking back inside to finish his homework for the evening.

_ “I would never want to let you go, Stiles.” _

When Stiles sat back down at his desk chair he paused, taking a second to breathe in Derek’s scent. Having his hoodie was like having a small piece of Derek even when he wasn’t there. Another secret. Another promise. This time Stiles hoped that Derek - bunny teeth, Derek’s tree, “never let you go” Derek -  _ his Derek _ meant it this time around. 

* * *

Derek hated white lilies. They had, for some goddamn reason, become the flower of the Hale family. Whenever the family threw a large party white lilies. When they had company staying over white lilies. When there was a charity ball white lilies. When one of their business partners was ill white lilies. When someone died....

White lilies.

Derek scrunched his nose, hating the particularly bright white bouquet that sat in an ugly vase on the small table in the sun room. It was his father’s business cocktail party thrown every February to celebrate how well they had done last year. Derek had groaned when he saw the large shipment being delivered, knowing he would have to pretend he was interested in the business and answer any questions the partners and clients had for him. It was like a test, making sure he was good enough to follow in his father’s footsteps. He hoped most of the focus would be on Laura and Jordan and their most recent engagement. Maybe he and Cora could slip under the radar this year. It was especially hard for Cora who was viewed as the black sheep of the family, not that Cora seemed to mind, but he could tell it wore her down the way the others looked at her. It was a different kind of battle than the one Derek fought. He felt like he was constantly in the spotlight, the pressure of being the  _ perfect Hale son _ always too heavy to carry alone, slowly chipping away at him until he crumbled for good. Cora was just left in the dust. Laura seemed to escape with the least amount of damage, which, really how sad and pathetic did that sound?

So Derek hated white lilies. He much preferred the wildflowers that grew along the trail and in hidden places in the preserve. He loved the blackeyed susans that speckled behind the barn in the summertime. He loved the spring beauties and rows of milkweed that served as stops for pollinators next to the paths he ran in the morning. He loved the bright reds of the fuchsia-flowered gooseberry contrasting with the soft pinks of sugar bush. But most of all he loved the purple cone flowers that snuck up along the fence line by the horses. He knew there was a small patch in the woods behind the house that returned every year. He’d love them ever since Claudia had found the small, wild garden just a few months before she had taken her leave, taking Stiles with her. She had been so happy to find them, which in turn made Stiles just as excited. They stayed there for hours, he, Stiles, and Laura, listening to Claudia tell them all about the wildflowers of the preserve. He loved them because Claudia had loved them. Because Stiles loved them. Because they reminded him of a time before everything got so complicated and lonely.

Derek loved purple coneflowers and he hated white lilies. Two flowers. Two worlds. One where he had been free and the other where he had all of his decisions made for him. He had never given the lilies much thought until after the funeral.

_ It was bright, too bright, Derek thought as he shielded the sun from his eyes, the heat of midday making his suit uncomfortably hot as he tried to shift closer to his mother who was under the shade of the big oak tree. One peeling look from his father kept him rooted to his spot. It was too bright to be burying Claudia Stinlinski. But Derek could feel it, smell the oncoming storm that was sure to rip the town apart in a matter of hours. It hung in the air, the haze and heaviness, like the very earth was preparing to scream in anguish over the loss of someone like her.  _

_ But the storm was too late and it wouldn’t matter. She was gone and it was like she had taken her husband and only son with her. Of course Stiles was only standing feet away from him, honey-whiskey eyes trained to the ground as people patted him on the shoulder, murmuring their apologies. He could hear Laura sniffling and he could even see tear trails down his mother’s cheeks. His chest ached, eyes throbbing, like the sobs and the tears he wanted to release were threatening to hurt him if he didn’t set them free. But his father had been very clear before they left. He wasn’t allowed to cry because Hale men don’t cry. It was all bullshit of course because he had seen Peter cry when they first heard the news, but his father didn’t control Peter like he controlled Derek so he kept them locked up tight.  _

_ When he looked back Stiles was staring right at him. He wanted to run, to pull Stiles into his arms and tell him how sorry he was and that he would keep his promise of never leaving him. Maybe his father had read his mind as a stern hand came and gripped his shoulder a little too tightly, once again keeping him in place. If Stiles could see how badly he wanted to close the distance between them, to hug him, to be there for him then maybe he would understand. But Stiles was looking away and Derek wanted to scream. Instead he focused on the bouquet of white lilies he knew were from his family. The were unmistakable, bright white, big, and Derek fucking hated them. _

_ “I’m going to pay my respects.” Talia said, moving before Michael could stop her, Peter going with her. _

_ He did have time to stop Laura though, ushering all three of them back towards the car. Laura fought back, but their father dragged her along before she finally relented, wrenching her arm from his grasp. She fell into step next to Derek, eyes puffy and red, arms crossed over her chest. She looked more angry than sad now. Derek felt angry too. _

_ “It should have been coneflowers.” He said quietly enough so that their father couldn’t hear. _

_ “It should have been a lot of things.” Laura whispered back. _

_ Derek just shook his head. “Just not lilies. It should have been coneflowers.” _

Derek was just happy Jennifer wasn’t in attendance. He knew he couldn’t take her hanging all over him the entire evening, especially after what she had done to Stiles. He was realizing it was getting harder to pretend with her and he was beginning to panic just a little about handling the situation. He knew what his father expected from them, but Derek also knew he wouldn’t be able to go through with it. He couldn’t picture a happy life with anyone, but Stiles. And that scared Derek. Because, eventually, he would have to face that truth to get what he wanted.

But he wasn’t ready. Not yet. He wished he were braver. 

He stood, the white lilies in the ugly vase mocking him.

_ Disowned by the family. White lilies. _

Derek sucked in a deep breath suddenly needing to escape. Luckily, he was next to Jordan who was dominating the conversation by talking about wedding venues or something silly like that. He quietly excused himself, going out through the kitchen to the backyard. He leaned against the side of the house, closing his eyes. Despite it being the middle of winter he wondered if he would find any coneflowers in the secret garden poking up from the cold ground.

“Derek?”

Derek popped his eyes open, surprised to see Stiles walking towards him, rubbing his hands together like he was trying to keep out the cold.

“What are you doing out here?” Derek asked with a raised eyebrow, the beginnings of a smile curling against his lips. He reached out, taking Stiles’ hands in his own to help warm them up.

“The head chef is making some sort of strawberry sauce for the dessert and the smell was making me feel woozy and my throat a little scratchy.” Stiles said with a slight shrug of his shoulders before giving Derek his too big, too bright smile as a thank you for warming his hands up. “What brings you out here?”

_ White lilies. _

It was on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed the two words, not wanting to explain how a stupid bouquet of flowers made him feel like he couldn’t breathe.

“You know how it gets at these things.” Derek finally said, knowing that was partially true. 

“Well,” Stiles hummed as he settled next to Derek, their shoulders touching, “you’ve made it through most of the night. The adults all seem to have enough wine in them that no one would notice if you didn’t return.”

Derek cocked an eyebrow, leaning forward so he could catch his boyfriend’s eye. “Are you suggesting that we ditch the party?”

Stiles laughed. “Not we,  _ you _ , and well, maybe Cora, but I still have to work if I want to get paid.”

“If they don’t notice me then they definitely won’t notice you.” Derek argued. He wanted nothing more than to sneak off to the barn with Stiles to get a little bit of alone time. “I mean, Peter seemed to have disappeared an hour ago.” Derek said as he threw the area where his uncle resided a look. He suddenly remembered the Christmas party and how his uncle had disappeared then, only to appear later with Chris Argent not too far behind. “With Chris Argent.” He added with a whisper.

Stiles looked sharply at him, body stiffening. “What did you say?”

“I-” Derek began, wondering why Stiles looked so worried, did he know something? If he did, how long had he known? Derek had never paid his uncle any attention when they were at these types of things before. Whenever he looked his uncle was always there, always talking to the partners and the clients with ease. It couldn’t be true. Not what he was thinking. It just couldn’t be. “Nothing.”

Stiles pressed his lips together like he was in deep thought. “Maybe you should talk with your uncle,” he said after a moment, “he may be able to understand better than anyone.”

Derek knew that if he were to face his truth his uncle would be a good place to start. He had always been supportive of Derek, been there when his father wasn’t. While Peter was a little strange, snarky, and a bit mysterious he had made it very clear Derek could come to him for anything. He wished Peter were his father instead of Michael.

“Hey,” Stiles said, pushing off from the wall, his too big, too bright smile returning, “I was thinking that you and I should go on a date.”

Derek blinked, not sure if he had heard Stiles correctly. “What?”

“A date.” Stiles repeated casually like they weren’t in a secret relationship.

“Stiles…” Derek murmured, his heart breaking slightly. He wanted nothing more than to go on a date. Their relationship so far had been behind closed doors where no one could find them. Texting and phone calls never seemed like enough and what little time they had together just made Derek want more.

“Look,” Stiles said, still smiling, “I know this cool town about an hour away where no one would know us.”

Derek worried his lip between his teeth, rocking back on his heels in thought. It was tempting. They should be safe, but Derek had been featured in the newspaper and was on the front page of magazine covers. He could potentially be recognized even just an hour away. All it took was one picture, one text, one whisper for everything to fall apart. That thought alone terrified him. No, they couldn’t. Not when they had so much to lose. His too long moment of silence must have been an answer enough for Stiles. Derek saw his smile tighten, giving Derek a small nod of his head, honey-whiskey eyes dropping to the ground.

“Yeah, no, hey, it’s okay, I get it.” He quickly said as he fidgeted with his fingers. “Listen, I hate to cut this short, but I uh, should really get back…” He threw his thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the kitchen as his voice trailed off.

“Stiles, wait.” Derek said, reaching out to grab his arm and stop him, heart dropping into his stomach. Stiles looked between Derek’s hand and his eyes, the smallest amount of pain evident there. Derek opened his mouth to explain, to try and make it better, but a clearing of a throat from behind them made his hand quickly drop.

“Derek,” Gerard said, pulling a cigarette from a small carton in the front pocket of his jacket, “I was wondering where you had gone off to.” He lit the cigarette, taking a long drag from it before his eyes narrowed in on Stiles. “Boy, shouldn’t you be in the kitchen?”

Derek could see how tense Stiles had become as Gerard looked him over again, but he offered the older man a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “My apologies, sir.” 

He turned, without looking at Derek, and disappeared inside the house. Derek hated the gut wrenching feeling that had come over him as he watched Stiles go. He hated the way Gerard had spoken to him, like Stiles was beneath them.

“That was the nanny’s boy,” Gerard asked, pointing his cigarette in the direction that Stiles had disappeared to, “Stilinski.”

Derek swallowed hard, nodding his head before he remembered himself. “Yes, Stiles.” It pained him to say his name in front of Gerard. 

“The stable hand your mother hired a few months ago.” Gerard said after another long drag. “Funny, how these things work out, hmm?”

Derek felt like he was being tested, thrust into a game of chess where most of his pieces had been pulled from the board before the game began. One wrong move and Gerard would be claiming his king in an instant.

“I suppose so.” Derek said with an indifferent shrug of his shoulders. He needed to show he didn’t care about Stiles, not in a way that mattered anyways

Gerard finished his cigarette, stomping the bud out in the snowy grass. He walked over to Derek, placing a hand meant to mimic that of a caring father figure on his shoulder. 

“Don’t forget what I told you all those years ago,” Gerard said with a smile that read more like a warning, “two worlds. People like Stiles Stilinski don’t belong in the places that men like us are going. You’ll do well to remember that from here on out.”

Derek felt something break inside of him and it took all of his willpower not to rip Gerard’s arm right out of his socket. Because Stiles  _ did _ belong in his world. Everyone else was wrong and he felt sick for letting people like Gerard and Jennifer -  _ like his fucking father _ \- tell him otherwise. Derek didn’t know how long he was standing out in the cold after Gerard had left, but his body had grown numb and he wasn’t sure if his legs were working properly anymore. He was suddenly moving without thinking, like he was a lone wolf who heard the call of his pack and he was finding his way home.

When he turned the corner he caught sight of Stiles, his arms full of white lilies, carrying them towards one of the guest bedrooms. He was nearly up the stairs and Derek took them two at a time to catch up. He reached out, arms snaking around Stiles’ waist, startling him. The lilies fell to the floor, but Derek didn’t care as he pulled Stiles into the nearest empty room.

“Derek what are you-” 

He silenced Stiles with a kiss. It was needy and desperate and full of apologies. It was a reminder that Stiles was real and he was his.

“Yes.” Derek said, his stubble brushing against Stiles’ beautifully flushed cheeks. “Yes, I would love to go on a date with you.”

* * *

Derek’s leg bounced nervously, his fingers tapping against his knee as he tried to focus on the sound of Stiles’ voice. The boy was talking a mile a minute like he normally did and Derek tried to find some comfort in it, but he couldn’t stop the anxious feeling twisting in his gut. They had finally settled on a day for their date. Derek’s father and uncle were out of town on business while his mother and sister were visiting some family. It was the perfect day for Derek to just disappear for a few hours without being questioned where he was. It didn’t stop him from being absolutely terrified that something would go wrong. Stiles had assured him a thousand times that they would be safe and no one would recognize him, but it was always a worry in the back of Derek’s mind. As soon as his father found out Derek knew it would be all over.

“Derek,” Stiles said after Derek realized his boyfriend had been calling his name for a few moments, “we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I can turn the car around and we can just watch movies in my bedroom.”

Stiles’ hand was gripping Derek’s bouncing leg gently, amber eyes soft at the corners as he gave him a reassuring smile. Derek didn’t know what he did to deserve someone like Stiles. He was so understanding and patient when Derek needed it the most.

“No,” Derek murmured, “I want to do this.”

[It](https://open.spotify.com/track/1ypzHP3QpvpMURHFfWp3an?si=J8Mpp0J0QFyP2VLmpZQYOA) was that too big, too bright smile that chased away his fears and anxieties, giving him the courage he needed to step out of the Jeep. Beacon Hills was a decent sized town, with a nice downtown area full of nicer restaurants, bars, and shops. Derek knew his family had invested a lot of money to lift the town up and it had paid off. While it was nothing compared to the city life it was enough that their town was considered a top place to live in the state of California. They held festivals in the summer and farmers markets on the weekends. Every year the town buzzed a little louder with activity all thanks to the Hale family. Every place Derek went he was recognized, people knew him. It made him feel naked, vulnerable, because he knew eyes were always watching him, wondering where he would end up.

Here, in this small town of Wildworth, about an hour and a half from home Derek felt invisible. Stiles had explained the only reason the town was known at all was because some famous author that Derek couldn’t remember was born and raised here. The small strip of restaurants and shops were humming pleasantly as people moved between them with friendly smiles on their faces. It was the kind of place where people knew each other’s family trees because they had all lived there so long. Stiles had talked up the local coffee shop connected to the bakery that only stayed open until they sold out for the day. He made mention of a bookshop that Derek was secretly excited for and a bunch of other little local places that were fun to browse. Their first stop would be the coffee place which Stiles swore had the best cinnamon pumpkin muffins.

Stiles was vibrating with energy as they hit the sidewalk, heading down the street as people waved and said “hello”. Derek took his time to look around at the poles wrapped in colorful knitted patterns and murals painted on the side of buildings as the smells of fresh baked goods wafted in the air. The town was alive in a way that made Derek feel warm inside, like he could stay there forever. A place for just the two of them to be themselves. No secrets. No hiding. Derek felt something cold slip into his hand, long, nimble fingers intertwining in his own. He felt his heart skip a beat, but when he turned to look Stiles was still talking happily, using his free hand to point to places along the street.

Derek brushed his thumb over the back of Stiles’ hand, holding it tighter. The gesture was so casual, so easy, but to Derek it felt more like a lifeline. There was something about the way Stiles’ hand fitting perfectly in his own that made it hard to catch his breath for a moment. He wasn’t a stranger to the idea of holding hands. He had seen his friends do it all the time with their significant other. Laura and Jordan were practically joined at the hand, their fingers always locked together as they moved through a crowd. He knew it was silly to be jealous of such a small thing, but it was the soft touch, the affection Derek had been craving for years. 

And here they were for everyone to see.

Derek’s face felt hot, but the longer he held on the harder he knew it would be for him to let go. It was that pleasant spark of electricity -  _ that certain kind of magic  _ \- that was just part of who Stiles was, rushing through Derek’s viens, setting him on fire, making the world burst into colors Derek felt like he had never seen. It was like an anchor, keeping him from floating into space. And when Stiles brought Derek’s hand up, his lips ghosting against the back of Derek’s hand he nearly lost it. Stiles was so sure in his movements, doing them without thinking, without caring, and Derek had never been more thankful to have fallen back into his gravity.

“Here we are!” Stiles beamed as he pulled the door open, still keeping a hold onto Derek’s hand.

They stepped inside the coffee shop which was filled with people scattered around talking quietly, working on their computers, reading or listening to music. There were couches and giant, comfy arm chairs near the back of the shop facing large windows that overlooked a small patio garden that would have been used in the warmer months. The tables were decorated in brightly colored mosaic tiles, with mismatched chairs and a row of bookshelves lining the back wall. He could see where the shop connected to the bakery via a small ordering window. There was art on the walls and plants shoved into corners. It was busy and homey and Derek loved it.

“Stiles!”

Derek turned to see an older woman that looked to be around his mom age approaching them with a smile on her face. She had a soft face dotted with freckles, framed by blonde hair that was pulled back out of her face. She was wiping her hands on a black apron before she opened up her arms to pull Stiles into a hug. Derek felt Stiles’ fingers slip through his own and he had to stop himself from reaching out to take them again.

“Hello Miss Clayton.” Stiles said as he pulled back.

“Dani, please,” Dani said as she playfully hit him in the shoulder, “you know I hate being called that.”

“How’s Jamie?” Stiles asked as he glanced at the bakery window like he could find the person in question through the rush of people entering both shops.

“She just made a fresh batch of cinnamon pumpkin muffins if that’s what you’re asking.” Dani said with an amused smile. “But she’ll be happy to know her favorite customer is here to eat them.”

“I’ll be sure to thank her before I leave.” Stiles said as his lips curled into a grin. “She nearly chased me down the street last time I forgot to stop in and say hi.”

Dani laughed before she turned her gaze towards Derek, raising a curious eyebrow. “You don’t look like Scott McCall,” her dark blues moving back on Stiles, “aren’t you two usually attached at the hip?”

Stiles laughed, his fingers sliding back into Derek’s own, squeezing them gently. “Scotty is busy writing poetry about Isaac’s eyes today,” he said with a roll of his eyes, “this is Derek.”

Dani’s smile grew fond as she looked at their joined hands and the knot that Derek didn’t realize had been twisting in his chest loosened immediately.

“Stiles is one of the best people I know,” Dani said genuinely, her eyes growing soft as she gave Stiles a loving look that Derek could only describe as motherly, “it is a privilege to love and be loved by him.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles said, cheeks flushing as he used his free hand to cover his face, “you’re just as bad as my dad or Melissa.”

But Derek could only nod his head in agreement. Dani was right. There was no one quite like Stiles. 

“I’ll stop embarrassing you,” Dani said eyes still on Derek’s face, reading him like he was an open book, “what can I get you to drink?”

“Two white mocha lattes,” Stiles said as he dropped his hand, cheeks still pink, “and-”

“And two cinnamon pumpkin muffins.” Dani said as she waved her hand in the direction of the back of the shop where there was a soft blue loveseat open by the crackling fire. 

“You’re the best!” Stiles called after her before he tugged Derek in the direction of the loveseat to sit down. 

They sat down together, knees touching and fingers still intertwined. Stiles was chatting happily, telling Derek different things about the shop while they waited for their drinks to arrive. He was amused to see two white foamed hearts in the middle of their cups.

“So,” Derek said as he sat his drink down, “have you known Dani a long time?”

“All my life.” Stiles said through a mouth full of muffin. He swallowed, running his thumb over his bottom lip. Derek wanted to chase the movement with his teeth, knowing Stiles would taste like cinnamon and white chocolate. “She and my mom went to college together. They were roommates all four years and I think Dani started dating Jamie right after they graduated.”

“They knew your mom?” Derek asked, his voice dipping into a whisper. Stiles never really talked about his mother. Derek understood why.

Stiles nodded his head. “My mom would bring Scott and I here all the time when they opened up this shop and bakery together. Although back then we were only allowed to have hot chocolate.”

“And she helped me develop the recipe for these muffins.” A woman with short, dark curly hair and an British accent said as she sat another one down in front of them.

“I was going to stop by and say hello this time.” Stiles said as Jamie gave him a look that clearly stated she was waiting for him to hug her.

“Sure you were, Stilinski,” Jamie said as she patted his cheek fondly, “and your father is sticking to his diet like he says he is.”

“Don’t get me started.” Stiles groaned as he sat back down next to Derek.

“Dani says you applied to Berkley, have you heard anything back yet?” Jamie asked as she put her hands in the pockets of her overalls.

“Not yet.” Stiles said with a small shake of his head. “Any day now.”

Derek could see a small shift in Stiles. His leg began to bounce nervously, body slightly more tense, fingers fidgeting with the sleeve of his hoodie. Derek’s basketball hoodie. Derek reached across taking Stiles’ hand this time, trying to offer some small comfort. He could see Stiles’ relaxing, his honey-whiskey eyes crinkling in the corners as he threw Derek a smile.

“There’s no doubt you’ll get in.” Jamie said. “And then we’ll have to figure out how to ship you muffins all that way.”

“Jamie,” Stiles said as he ran his thumb over Derek’s hand absentmindedly, “if you send me muffins in college I will love you forever.”

Jamie barked a laugh. “Will I have to make enough for pretty boy, too?” 

Stiles brought a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Share my muffins with my boyfriend? How could you ask such a thing?”

Derek couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation as the word  _ boyfriend _ rang in his ears. Stiles had said it like it was no big deal. Like they weren’t keeping it a secret from their friends, their family, the entire town. It was like giving him a small preview of what their life could be like. Derek knew it couldn’t be a secret forever, but maybe if they went to Berkley together they could have more moments like this. They could walk across campus hand in hand, makeout under cheap, plastic lights at a fraternity party, and bring each other coffee during late night study sessions in the library. They could meet new people and call each other  _ boyfriend _ without having to worry the wrong person would overhear them. Derek could leave marks of purple and blue along Stiles’ neck instead of just hidden beneath the collar of his shirt.

They couldn’t be roommates, but maybe they could live in the same dorm, squeezing together on those ridiculously small, twin beds on weekends and evenings when they were alone. Maybe this Derek and Stiles - the ones holding hands and exchanging soft smiles in a coffee shop full of color and love and life - could exist in other places in the world. Maybe it would give Derek the courage to tell his parents,  _ his father _ , how he really felt. 

He just hoped Stiles could hold on that long.

“You’re thinking too hard.” Stiles said as he ran his fingers over Derek’s furrowed forehead, smoothing out the wrinkles.

“How do you know?” Derek asked, breaking away from his thoughts. Stiles just raised an eyebrow, giving him a look causing Derek to rub the back of his neck. “I was just thinking of how much I want it to be like this all the time.”

“Me too.” Stiles hummed as he leaned forward, pressing his lips into Derek’s.

They had never kissed in front of other people before and Derek felt slightly panicked, but the feel of Stiles against him made him melt. No one was paying them any attention. They were just another couple scattered around the store. He wanted it so badly. It was getting difficult to pretend and he was worried he was going to slip up any moment. The more his father pushed Jennifer in his direction the harder he ran towards Stiles. It was only a matter of time before she knew. It was a dangerous game and Derek felt like if he wasn’t careful then he would lose.

“Maybe someday.” Stiles murmured against Derek’s lips.

“You know I want to tell them.” Derek blurted out. He felt like he always had to remind Stiles that he didn’t want to keep it a secret forever. The guilt was constantly eating him alive.

“Derek,” Stiles said, “it’s okay. I know it’s hard, but we’ll figure it out.”

“I don’t deserve you.” Derek sighed as he brought his head down on Stiles’ shoulder, closing his eyes.

“You deserve to be happy.” Stiles whispered as he leaned down kissing the top of Derek’s head.

It was one of those wave crashing moments where Derek realized just how hard he was falling. But that was something he didn’t dare speak of yet. He couldn’t. He had to keep that locked away where it was safe. 

They spent the rest of their day walking around the town, browsing around the shops. They spent nearly two hours in the book store, which Stiles found amusing as Derek combed through the sections, taking his time. And if they made out in the back of the shop between the historical non-fiction and cook books then no one was the wiser. They picked up takeout on their way home, ending their night naked beneath Derek’s sheets, wrapped in each other’s arms. 

_ Stay. _

It was on the tip of his tongue, begging -  _ pleading _ \- to be spoken. Stay tonight. Stay forever. Just stay.

“I could if you want me to.” Stiles murmured against Derek’s bare shoulder, brushing his lips over the bruised skin. 

He knew he needn’t say the words, because Stiles had already known, but somehow it still felt like a cheat. Like Stiles was giving more than he was getting, making them unbalanced and doomed to crash a burn. Derek just buried his head into his pillow, biting his tongue, because it hurt too much to say  _ not this time _ . But Stiles knew that answer too.

“I should probably try to squeeze in some study time anyway.” Stiles said as he began to pull away, reaching for his clothes that were scattered against the floor. Derek knew he would never get tired of seeing Stiles in his hoodie. “Thanks for going on a date with me.”

“I don’t know when we’ll be able to do it again, but I’m glad we went.” Derek said, his heart sinking at the thought of long it would be before they could both slip away together. It was different from their late night rendezvous and Derek once again hated himself for asking Stiles to keep a part of himself hidden for Derek’s selfishness.

“I’ll see you at the game this weekend.” Stiles said as he leaned forward giving Derek a quick kiss.

Derek watched him go before collapsing against his bed again. It was still there, that one word, burning a hole through his goddamn chest. 

“Stay,” Derek whispered into the emptiness, “stay, Stiles.”

* * *

“Why do you want to go?” Scott asked in between bites of food, throwing his best friend a curious glance as his eyes darted down to the half eaten sandwich he had given Stiles when it was clear Stiles hadn’t brought his own.

“Come on,” Stiles said as he tried to keep his voice casual, although he was now regretting asking his friends to go at all, “it’s the big rival game. The whole school is going to be there.”

“Yeah,” Isaac said with a roll of his eyes, “which means we definitely don’t want to be there. Since when were you into our basketball team anyway?”

Stiles knew it would be asked, but he still hadn’t come up with a good enough answer that wouldn’t give him away. Luckily, Kira saved him.

“I think it could be fun!” Kira chirped in. “Or, well,” she mumbled as Isaac threw her a look, “different than what we normally do on a Friday night.”

“Yes,” Isaac said, voice heavily weighted by sarcasm, “there’s nothing more that I love than watching the entire female population swoon over Derek Hale making the winning shot at the game.”

Stiles felt his cheeks burning and he ducked his head for a moment, trying his hardest not to catch his boyfriend’s eye from across the cafeteria. “I thought you were cool after the lacrosse championship.”

“We are,” Isaac said as he leaned back and Stiles could see the blonde throw Derek a quick look, “but Jennifer really rubs me the wrong way and she’s for sure going to be there.”

“That’s not Derek’s fault.” Kira pointed out. “Actually, I feel sorry for her,” Kira hummed as she popped a piece of pineapple in her mouth, “I don’t think Derek’s that into her.”

“Why would you say that?” Stiles asked as his heart began to pound.

“She’s practically wrapped around him every chance she gets.” Isaac argued, crossing his arms over his chest.

Kira just shrugged her shoulders. “You can see it in his body language. He leans away from her. It’s subtle, but I’ve noticed it a few times.”

“Too bad their parents have already picked out the wedding venue.” Isaac snorted. “If that’s true I’d feel more sorry for Derek.”

Stiles sat in silence for a moment as his friends chatted about Derek and Jennifer. He knew most people in the school viewed them as the future power couple of the town, but he had never really heard his friends talk about it before. It was strange how normal that was. How the entire school, hell the entire town, just decided that Derek was destined to marry a person he didn’t even really like. They weren’t even dating and yet everyone was so sure of what the outcome would be. Stiles could only imagine the headlines, the interrogations, the stories wondering where it all went wrong if Derek ended up with anyone who wasn’t Jennifer, let alone ending up with someone like Stiles. 

He knew the longer they kept it a secret -  _ kept it a lie _ \- the bigger and more devastating the explosion would be. Stiles’ stomach began to twist uncomfortably. Derek was risking everything to be with Stiles. If it all went wrong then it would be Stiles’ fault. It was just another layer of anxiety to add to the mess that was his life. But the mere thought of breaking it off with Derek made his heart ache in a way that he hadn’t felt in years. It was the same gut wrenching, heartbreaking, falling over the cliff’s edge into the void feeling he’d experienced when he had lost his mother and Derek all at the same time. He didn’t want to be selfish, but this time he didn’t want to let go.

He turned his head, catching those grey-greens watching him across the distance. The sun from the window was perfectly slanted so that he could almost catch flecks of gold swimming in that beautiful sea. 

_ “But Derek - Derek is an anchor.”  _

He could see the corners of Derek’s mouth pull down ever so slightly, eyebrows knitting together in a way only Stiles could read. Maybe, for a second, Stiles had let his anguish and doubts and fears flash across his face. Or maybe the tautness of his lips, the slight narrow of his eyes was just enough for Derek to read him in return. Just like all of their moments, their looks, it lasted a few seconds at most. It was all that was allowed. All that would ever be allowed for the foreseeable future and Stiles hated how much that hurt too.

“Let’s go to the game.” It was Scott’s voice that startled him and when he turned his best friend was giving him a curious glance, a lopsided smile on his face that made Stiles wonder what had changed his mind so quickly.

“Seriously?” Isaac groaned.

“I’ll buy you all the nachos you can eat.” Scott said with a small shrug of his shoulders, still smiling. “Besides Theo is on the other team and I, for one, would love to see his ass get kicked.”

“Ugh,” Isaac said as he scrunched his nose, “is that the guy who-”

“Yes.” Stiles said immediately, cutting Isaac off. 

He tried his best to forget about Theo and for good reason. He could only imagine the look on Theo’s face if Derek pulled him into a victory kiss on the court for everyone to see. He would just have to settle for Derek absolutely destroying them in the game instead.

“Fine,” Isaac finally agreed with a sigh, “but if Derek doesn’t ‘accidentally’ knock Theo to the ground then I definitely will.”

Stiles gave Isaac a genuine smile, happy to know his friends had his back. He wished he could tell them about his relationship with Derek. He knew they would understand. He knew they would keep it a secret. He didn’t want to think about how hurt they would be once the truth came out. If it came out at all. He tried not to think about it, or Theo, or the crushing guilt weighing on his shoulders if it all went wrong as he finished out the day.

“What’s wrong?”

They only had a minute or two before the warning bell rang for the last class of the day, but this was their routine and they had it down to the second. Stiles tried to force a smile to his face, not wanting to bring Derek down when he had good news.

“Nothing.” he said as he leaned against the locker in the boy’s locker room. It was the safest spot for them to meet. No one ever used it until after school for practice and it had two doors leading in different directions so they could slip out without looking suspicious.

Derek raised one of his eyebrows. “Stiles, I saw you at lunch today. You barely ate and you looked upset.”

“Just the usual.” Stiles sighed as he leaned into Derek, laying his forehead against his boyfriend’s shoulder. He could feel Derek rest his cheek against his hair.

“I know.” Derek murmured. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Stiles said as he shifted slightly, kissing Derek’s collarbone where it was poking out from his shirt, “but I do have some good news.”

“Yeah?” Derek asked, his voice a little lighter.

“I convinced everyone to go to the game, so consider your fan section officially rallied.” Stiles grinned.

Stiles felt his insides melt, his anxiety alleviating slightly as he watched Derek break into a smile, his bunny teeth on full display. He loved that smile. He loved being the reason for it. He loved that it was his smile.

“All I need is you.” Derek said simply before he slowly pressed forward, capturing Stiles’ lips in a sweet kiss.

“I’m sure Scott will be jealous to hear that.” Stiles teased as he grinned against Derek’s lips. “He’s your biggest fan.”

Derek rolled his eyes, but Stiles was kissing him again. The bell rang and all too soon Derek was disappearing out the backdoor of the locker room. Stiles readjusted his backpack, taking in a deep breath before he moved in the opposite direction. He had barely made it around the corner when he bumped into another figure. He opened his mouth to start apologizing profusely, but all the words died on his lips when he saw Jennifer smiling pleasantly at him.

“There you are.” She said in a sweet voice that made Stiles shiver internally. “Long way to go for the bathroom, don’t you think?”

“Can I help you?” Stiles asked, forcing his voice to remain even as he cocked an eyebrow. He couldn’t imagine any scenario in which Jennifer looking for him was a good thing.

“I wanted to return this to you.” She said as she pulled a notebook from her bag, holding it out from him to take. “You left it behind in chemistry this morning.”

“There was plenty of time to return this at lunch.” Stiles said as he grabbed the notebook, only for her to hold on tighter, tugging on it slightly, making him stumble forward.

“I figured this conversation needed to be a little more private.” Jennifer said and now Stiles could see how tense her jaw was, her eyes an icy blue that threatened to freeze him if he dared move.

“I already apologized for the beaker incident.” Stiles snarled.

“Oh Stiles,” Jennifer tsked, “don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to.”

Stiles' entire body stiffened, a small breath of air escaping his parted lips. She couldn’t know. They had been so careful. He tried to stay calm as he squared his shoulders, his fingers gripping his notebook tighter. “And what am I up to?”

“My father warned me about people like you,” she sneered as she looked him over, “people who would try to get close to the Hales, to Derek, to use him for their own personal gain.”

Stiles barked a laugh. “ _ I’m using Derek _ ?” He asked incredulously.

“You think you’re so clever, but I know you two are getting closer and you’ve bonded with Cora too.” She said as she flipped her dark hair out of her face. “You don’t belong amongst people like us.”

Stiles could feel his jaw quivering in anger. “You forget, Jennifer,” he all, but growled her name, “I grew up with Derek. Maybe I just know him better.”

He knew it was too much information to give, but he couldn’t stop himself. She had made him so unbelievably angry. Just because his family wasn’t whole or his dad wasn’t wealthy didn’t mean he was worth any less. That he wasn’t even worthy of being Derek and Cora’s friend. He could see her eyes narrowing and he wouldn’t have been surprised if she grew teeth to rip out his throat right there.

“And if it came down to it, who do you think Mr. Hale would believe?” She snapped. “I don’t let people like you get in my way.”

“Funny,” Stiles retorted as he yanked his notebook out of her grasp, “it sounds like you’re the one using Derek, not me.”

He shoved past her, but her next words made him stop dead in his tracks.

“Don’t expect me to return your notebook again, Stiles.” Jennifer called and when Stiles looked her smile was downright evil. “It’s a silly thing to be forgotten, but I’m sure your mother forgot silly things all the time. Maybe the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree.”

Stiles felt his jaw drop, his entire body trembling with rage as he looked at her. For once in his life he was speechless. He knew Jennifer was awful, but he never knew how low she was willing to go to land a fatal blow.

“Don’t you dare-” He began as he stepped towards her, but he was cut off by Mr. Harris, who was standing at the end of the hallway, clearing his throat as he looked at the pair.

“You two have one minute to get to class before I start issuing detentions.” He said as he gave Stiles an unimpressed look.

“Of course, sir.” Jennifer said as brushed past Stiles, knocking into his shoulder.

Stiles just stood there, trying to stop the tears that had pooled into his eyes from falling. He couldn’t let what she said get to him, but he couldn’t stop thinking that maybe she was right. That maybe he was more like his mother in all the worst ways. That maybe the apple that fell from the tree had been poisoned too.

* * *

The roar of the crowd and the buzzing of energy in the gymnasium was almost enough to make Stiles forget the spiralling thoughts that had overcome him the past few days. His doubts and anxieties still sat in the back of his mind, hiding in the dark, but they were slowly being drowned out by the cheers of the people around him and the rush of joy that filled him whenever Derek scored. It was exhilarating watching Derek play. Just like lacrosse he moved with such passion and fierceness that Stiles was surprised he didn’t set the court on fire. He knew all eyes were on Derek, but he looked completely at ease, like the crowd wasn’t even there.

The game was close and even Isaac was on the edge of his seat as the teams went back and forth, stealing and scoring so that they were only ahead by two points. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Cora gripping Kira’s hand tightly, their focus all on the court. Peter had noticed as well and they both shared a small, private smile before they turned their attention back to the game. The buzzer beater three-point shot Derek made to win the game got the crowd on their feet, screaming and cheering, as students closer to the bottom of the bleachers rushed the court, surrounding the team in victory. 

Stiles could see them lifting Derek into the air, causing him to toss his head back in laughter. He loved seeing Derek in his element, letting his walls down just a little, letting his true self slip through as he chased the high of victory. If only Derek could be like this all the time. Not afraid to be who he really was because Stiles knew as soon as he entered the locker room the facade would return. Maybe sooner than he thought as Jennifer ran through the crowd, reaching out for Derek. She threw her arms around his neck, surprising him with a kiss. The team and surrounding crowd wolf whistled and clapped as Derek slowly wrapped his arms around her, his hands balled into tight fists. 

Stiles bit down on his lip, pushing away the feeling of bile rising up in the back of his throat. He hated how much he wanted to be the person who ran to Derek in front of everyone and pulled him into a kiss. He hated that Derek had to force himself to consent to Jennifer’s every whim because that’s how he was told to act. He hated how all he could do was watch from the sidelines.

“What a thrilling game.” Peter said casually, but Stiles could see a tightness in the corner of his eyes that showed he didn’t like what he saw either. “Cora,” he turned towards his niece, offering her a genuine smile, “I will be heading home for the evening, but feel free to stay out with your friends if you wish.”

“Thanks, uncle Peter.” Cora said, cheeks flushing before she rejoined the conversation about where they were all going to go for dinner.

Peter bid them a goodnight, giving Stiles’ shoulder a gentle squeeze before leaving. Stiles barely paid attention to what his friends were saying, nodding his head and agreeing to go wherever they wanted. He waited until the crowd began to dissipate, the two teams heading towards their respective locker rooms. Stiles quickly mentioned one last bathroom trip before he slipped into the crowd, heading to his and Derek’s secret meetup spot. He turned down the empty hallway when he was blocked by an arm reaching across the opening, a body casually leaning towards him.

“Stiles,” Theo said with a smirk as he wiped his sweaty hair back with his free hand, “I thought I recognized you in the crowd.” 

Stiles took a small step back, knowing nothing would happen as there was still a large amount of people just behind them.

“You look good.” Theo noted, his eyes raking up and down Stiles’ body.

“It was nice watching you lose, Theo.” Stiles stated calmly.

Theo chuckled as he moved forward, causing Stiles to back against the wall. “I missed this,” he breathed as he placed the palm of his hand against the wall next to Stiles’ head, “the banter and the flirting.”

Stiles snorted. “I see you’re still an asshole.”

“I see you’re still a tease.” Theo said with a click of his tongue, eyes roaming over Stiles again.

Stiles raised an unimpressed eyebrow. Theo may have been bigger, but Stiles was quicker and he knew where to land hits that would hurt. Theo just gave him a smile before pulling pack, his hand subconsciously coming up to rub his jaw, giving Stiles the smallest amount of satisfaction.

“Maybe I’ll see you around.” Theo said as he brushed past Stiles.

Stiles watched him go, catching Jennifer staring at them curiously before she turned away to talk with her friends. He took a deep breath to steady himself before he continued down the empty hallway. He had barely made it through the locker room doors before Derek was picking him up, spinning him in a circle, causing Stiles to break out in a laugh.

“Derek what are you-” Stiles began, but he was cut off as Derek pulled him into a kiss. He still had his arms wrapped around Stiles’ waist, Stiles’ feet still a few inches above the ground. Stiles cupped Derek’s face, kissing him deeper. The feel of Derek’s grin against his lips was like magic and Stiles was vibrating with its energy.

“I wanted to do that as soon as I made that shot.” Derek murmured after a moment, their foreheads leaning against each other. “God, I wanted to find you and kiss you right there on the court.”

“You were amazing.” Stiles said as he ran his fingers through Derek’s hair.

“Are you wearing my shirt?” Derek asked with a feral grin as he looked down at the small peak of maroon beneath Stiles’ grey and white flannel button up.

“Maybe.” Stiles said with a wink. “Maybe I stole it when you weren’t looking.”

Derek carefully set Stiles down, reaching out to unbutton the flannel. Stiles watched in amusement as Derek took his time, eyes crinkling in the corners when he saw the white letters of  _ Beacon Hills Wolves  _ with a picture of a basketball between  _ Beacon Hills _ and  _ Wolves _ . It was similar to the hoodie, but much more worn and thin. When Derek was finished Stiles pulled the flannel from his arms, turning so that Derek could see the number four and  _ Hale _ written on the back. He could feel Derek’s trembling fingers trace over the letters, a small shiver running down his spine at the touch.

“I knew I couldn’t wear the hoodie, so I improvised.” Stiles said as he pulled the flannel back on, leaving it unbuttoned as he faced Derek. 

“Have I ever told you how much I enjoy seeing you in my clothes?” Derek asked, voice low and husky.

Stiles pressed his lips together in mock thought. “Once or twice, perhaps.”

Derek just rolled his eyes before he pressed forward, capturing Stiles in another kiss, his hands slipping beneath his shirt, resting against his skin. Stiles licked the beads of pooling in Derek’s collarbones, chasing Derek’s moan with his tongue. He could feel Derek’s boner against his thigh and he vaguely wondered if they could get away with a quickie right here with the entire school and half the town right outside the doors. The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying.

“I want to.” Derek sighed after a moment, leaning his head against Stiles’ shoulders. “Believe me, I do.”

Stiles hadn’t realized he had been talking out loud. He chuckled slightly as he ran a hand through his mussed hair. “We should probably go before we’re missed anyway. Tomorrow?”

Derek groaned, but nodded his head. He untangled himself from Stiles arms, trying to look like he hadn’t just been about to engage in forbidden sex in the school bathroom. Stiles stayed against the lockers, letting his heart rate slow and the flush of his cheeks cool off. They shared another quick kiss before Derek headed towards the door near the back of the room. He turned, frowning as he looked at Stiles.

“What is it?” Stiles asked as he began to button his shirt back up.

“You know that,” Derek paused, like he was fighting the words he wanted to say, “that  _ kiss _ with Jennifer doesn’t mean anything to me, right?”

“Of course.” Stiles said with a small nod of his head. He had all, but forgotten about it when Derek had scooped him up in his arms.

Derek’s face looked a little relieved, shoulders relaxing. “I just wanted to make sure you knew that.”

“Derek,” Stiles said with a half smile, “you don’t need to explain. I know.”

Derek shook his head. “You just mean so much to me and I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t.” Stiles said immediately, his chest tightening from the serious look in Derek’s eyes. “We’ll figure out the rest later.”

“Yeah,” Derek said, “we will.”

He smiled before disappearing behind the door. Stiles let his head hit the locker. He knew figuring things out were easier said than done, especially in their stolen moments together. It was easier to dream about what could be than to actually act. He knew they were only a couple months out from graduation and soon they could spend as much time as they wanted together at Berkeley. Maybe they could figure it out then. Stiles just needed to hold on just a little bit longer.

* * *

[It](https://open.spotify.com/track/1gZADNt16Oh23jWyMYRk4p?si=jDB8HWVvQDWRiXbTXgxL2g) was late. Derek knew it was late. It was late and possibly the worst idea in the entire world, but Derek hadn’t really been following his head. He was blindly -  _ stupidly  _ \- chasing after his heart. So it was late. Like middle of the night, no one in their right mind would possibly be awake late. He could still feel the adrenaline from the game, the rush of heat from the closeness he and Stiles shared in the locker room. He wanted Stiles against him, craved it like he was an addict in search for a fix. Stiles had a way of making him feel like every nerve ending was on fire and now he desperately sought to rekindle his smoldering embers. It wasn’t enough to close his eyes and imagine Stiles’ lips against his own or replay the trace of his nimble fingers along Derek’s spine.

So it was late. And desperate. And a terrible plan.

But Stiles was still awake and waiting for him in their barn. When Derek locked the door there was only a beat of silence between them, hungry eyes blowing wide before they crashed into each other. Derek tried not to rip his basketball shirt from Stiles’ body, but as soon as it was thrown to the floor he was biting and sucking along the pale skin. He would do anything,  _ anything _ , to hear Stiles’ absolutely wrecked moans. The sounds echoing in the barn awoke something wild and primal in Derek’s chest. Like a wolf -  _ an alpha _ \- needing to mark up its mate to keep all others away.

“Stiles,” Derek’s breath was hot and heavy, “I need you.”

“I’m right here.” Stiles hummed as he nipped at Derek’s jaw, teeth tracing across his neck, licking up the sweat glistening against his tanned skin.

“No,” Derek whined, because his need was so great, “I want you to -  _ I need you _ .”

Stiles paused, pulling back. His lips were swollen and slightly bruised, pupils dilated so that he could only see a small ring of honey-whiskey that almost looked darker than the night sky. Derek was struck by his beauty, nearly stealing his breath.

“Are you sure?” Stiles asked. “We don’t have to rush into anything.”

“I want you.” Derek said seriously. “All of you.”

Derek watched as Stiles licked his lips before he nodded his head. “Okay,” he whispered, “okay.”

When Stiles kissed him again it was slow and dirty, teeth, pulling at his bottom lip, hands dipping below Derek’s boxers, tracing against his V teasingly. When Stiles pulled away Derek wanted to follow. Stiles pulled a condom and a packet of lube from the pocket of his discarded jeans. Derek was already shivering, knowing how cold it would feel against his skin.

“If, at any point you want to stop, please let me know.” Stiles said seriously. 

Derek just nodded his head, swallowing a small lump in his throat. Stiles leaned forward, pressing a sweet and gentle kiss against Derek’s lips. Derek melted into it before he turned, bending over the stack of hay as Stiles began to work him open. Stiles’ blunt nails scratched down Derek’s back as he carefully entered him, making light and easy thrust. Derek felt like he was on fire in the best way possible. He threw his head back, his entire body sighing in pain and pleasure. Stiles trailed kisses down his spine, murmuring words of praise and encouragement as he increased his rhythm. Derek gripped the hay, feeling the heat and pleasure building in his groin. When he closed his eyes he swore he could see stars.

He could hear Stiles panting, feel the beads of sweat rolling across his skin, lips chasing the red marks he knew were painted across his back. When Stiles reached around, his hands hot, Derek came without a thought. Stiles’ breathy moan and shiver nearly made Derek come again. For a moment they leaned against each other and Derek could feel Stiles’ too big, too bright smile against his skin.

It was in this moment -  _ this fucking moment _ \- Derek wanted to say those words. He wanted to say them because they had been there for so long, so fucking long. They had grown and grown and grown until Derek felt like he couldn’t carry them anymore. He could have screamed them, shouted the letters until his lungs gave out. He could have whispered them, letting them spill over his tongue, soft and quiet like the first snow. He could have let them slip out as he turned, pressing his lips against Stiles’ parted and waiting ones.

“I know.” Stiles said with a small grin because that was their thing now. 

Their stupid cheesy  _ Star Wars  _ thing that he loved almost as much as he loved Stiles. And while Derek could have said those words all those ways, he knew he wasn’t ready. But Stiles knew that too.

“Come on, let’s get cleaned up.” Stiles said as he nodded his head towards the door.

They snuck back into the house, slipping into the shower of Derek’s private bathroom. Derek didn’t worry about being caught as his uncle lived in the other wing, Cora’s room was far away, and his parents were out of town. It gave them enough time to slip under the covers of Derek’s bed, holding onto each other before Stiles had to go.

“Hey,” Stiles said lazily as he stifled a yawn, “I was wondering, I have this thing next Saturday.”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “What thing?”

Stiles just shrugged his shoulder, acting like it was no big deal. “Just a scholarship award thing for having good grades. Lydia is getting it too, but I thought, well I wanted you to come, if you could.”

Derek could hear the slight hesitation in his voice, the small brace for impact as if he was constantly waiting for Derek to give him bad news. It made his stomach twist knowing Stiles was careful about asking Derek things when it came to their relationship because it felt like they were walking on thin ice.

“Of course.” Derek responded immediately. “Stiles, that’s amazing! You’re amazing and I will definitely be there.”

“Yeah?” Stiles asked, his lips curling into a small smile. “I know it’s not like a game or anything, but i just thought-”

Derek cut him off with a quick kiss. Stiles had always supported him by being there and Derek wanted to return the favor. “I’ll be there.”

Stiles’ smile was still on his face as he laid back down. Derek could see that he was trying hard to fight off sleep, which meant he would be heading home soon. Derek wanted to hold onto Stiles a little bit longer.

“I wish we could go to the bonfire together.” Stiles murmured, his voice so quiet it was like he hadn’t wanted Derek to hear the words at all.

_ Yeah _ , Derek thought, because he didn’t want Stiles to know that he heard what he said. He wished they could go to the bonfire together too. He wished they didn’t have to hide. He wished he could ask Stiles to stay. He felt like he was constantly wishing for things that would never come true. 

* * *

_ Bang. Bang. Bang. _

_ “He’s trying to kill me! He’s going to kill me! GET OUT!” _

_ Bang. Bang. BANG. _

_ His mouth was open, but his screams were drowned out by the terrifying sound behind him. She was always the same. Always brittle boned, blackened fingers, face crumbling into ash, always snarling and snapping and coming after him. _

_ “YOU’RE KILLING ME!” _

_ He tried to scream hard, louder, his tiny fist bang, bang, BANGING against the door. He needed out. Stiles needed the fuck out because she was coming. Then, suddenly, it was silent. Dead silent. Stiles sagged against the door, face etched in tears, heart pounding out of his chest because he was afraid to turn around. _

_ “Stiles.” _

_ Stiles shook his head, he couldn’t, he wouldn’t turn around because he knew what awaited him if he looked. He knew what awaited because he had seen it before, a thousand, a million times over and it was the same face every single time. He could feel the blackened fingers carding through his hair, a shiver racking his entire body. He was going to throw up, his breaths coming few and far between as the panic nestled into his very core. _

_ “Stiles.” _

_ No. No. No. No! He closed his eyes because he could see her hovering out of the corner of his eye. The monster. The monster that had been after him all his life. The monster with long, dark hair, pale skin and a constellation of moles... _

_ “Stiles, you’re killing me!” _

_ Her hands - her claws - dug into his skin, turning him, making him see… _

Stiles shot up out of bed a dying scream still poised on his lips.  _ It was just a nightmare _ . He repeated over and over again in his mind.  _ It was just a nightmare _ . Despite the chill from his cracked window he felt hot all over, sweat dripping down his forehead. He hurriedly untangled himself from the covers of his bed, stumbling towards the bathroom. He paused in the hallway, listening for any signs of movement from his father’s room. He didn’t know how loud he had shouted or if he had shouted at all. After a minute or two when Stiles could pick out the faint sound of snoring did he continue on into the bathroom. He flipped the switch, quickly starting the shower. He stripped off his shirt before stopping in front of the small mirror over the sink.

He could still see some of the faint bruises from his meet up with Derek a few nights ago. He smiled slightly as he traced over them with his finger. It wasn’t until he looked closely at his face did he frown. His dark circles had returned, looking worse than they did a few months ago. His cheeks looked slightly sharper, his round face a little more hollow than he was used to seeing. His eyes lingered downed to his ribs, which seemed more pronounced than normal. He quickly turned away moving towards the shower. The cool water felt refreshing, waking him up despite the earliness of the hour and the lateness of when he went to bed.

He knew the stress of everything was beginning to pile up again. He had made it into Berkeley, but now the business of paying for it was weighing heavily on him. When he wasn’t trying to balance working, homework, and sneaking around to see Derek, he was applying for every last scholarship he could get his hands on. He knew whatever he was receiving on Saturday would help, but wouldn’t be enough. When he wasn’t worrying about paying for college he focused on studying for midterms that were quickly coming up. He only got to keep that scholarship if his grades remained high. When he wasn’t focusing on scholarships or school he felt the weight of his and Derek’s relationship barring down on him.

He knew it was worth it. Being with Derek made him so unbelievably happy, but he only really felt that happiness when they were together. When they weren’t he had to sit and watch Jennifer worm her way against Derek’s side while constantly putting Stiles down every chance she got. Stiles knew how Derek felt, it didn’t change anything between them, but it wasn’t easy either. At some point they would reach that crossroad where Derek had to decide where he wanted to go from there. Stiles wanted to be there for him, to support whatever decision he made, even if it broke Stiles’ heart in the end. 

Most of all when he wasn’t thinking about any of those things his thoughts wandered to the monster from his nightmare. Because if the monster caught him then nothing else would matter.

He stayed in the shower until the water became too cold, his skin covered in goosebumps as he toweled himself off. When he checked the clock he knew his father would be awake soon and he decided to head downstairs and start some breakfast and coffee. Stiles nibbled at small pieces of bacon as he made eggs with veggies for his father. The smell of the eggs made his stomach twist a little, but he forced a decent portion of toast with jam down as he remembered the way his ribs poked out of his sides. 

“Do my eyes deceive me or are you awake an hour before school starts.” His father said with an amused grin as he came into the kitchen.

“I cook breakfast and this is the thanks I get?” Stiles teased as he set the food down at a place on the round table in their kitchen. 

“I would be more appreciative if there was more bacon on my plate.” His father grumbled as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

“Nice try.” Stiles said as he sat across from his father’s seat.

“Are you excited for the bonfire tonight?” His dad asked as he dug into the food, taking notice that Stiles did not have a plate in front of him.

“I already ate.” He said, noticing his dad’s piercing gaze. “I guess the bonfire will be fun. Kira and Scott really want to go and Isaac and I are just collateral.” He said with a shrug.

“Don’t get too excited then.” His dad snorted.

“I think I’m just ready to move on.” Stiles said with a small sigh. Truthfully he just didn’t want to see Jennifer hang all over Derek like he knew she would be.

“Well,” his dad said as he chewed thoughtfully, “don’t leave too soon, I’ll miss you too much.”

“Dad,” Stiles groaned, “too early for family feels. Besides, aren’t you going on a date with Melissa tonight? You won’t be lonely when I’m gone.”

He watched as his dad sat down his fork, his lips turning down into a frown. Stiles felt a little bit of whiplash in the sudden seriousness that overtook his dad’s face.

“You’re okay with that, right?” His dad asked. “I don’t want you to be upset because of your mothe-”

“No!” Stiles cut in quickly, a flash of a brittle, ash crumbling face clouding his vision for a moment. “Dad, if Melissa makes you happy then go for it. Scott and I have only been trying to hook you up for forever.”

At this his father rolled his eyes, shoulders relaxing as he went back to his food. “Yes, we’ve noticed.”

They finished the rest of their breakfast chatting about random things and Stiles was just happy to spend some time with his father. Both of their schedules had kept them from seeing each other more than just in passing over the past couple of weeks and Stiles realized how much he was going to miss his old man when he went away to college. He couldn’t wait to have Melissa as a stepmom, but it had just been him and his dad for a long while. Leaving him was going to be hard.

“You should find someone that makes you happy too.” His dad said suddenly from the sink where he was doing the dishes. 

Stiles nearly dropped the pan he was carrying over from the stove. “Dad!”

Noah just shrugged his shoulders. “You’ve never really dated anyone, Stiles” his dad replied casually, “not that there’s anything wrong with that.” He added quickly.

“I’m perfectly happy just being me!” Stiles said with so much enthusiasm that his dad raised a skeptical eyebrow from where he was standing.”Who has time to date when there’s so many scholarships to apply for?” He said sheepishly.

“Maybe college will provide you with more options than Lydia Martin.” His dad teased.

“Hey!” Stiles said as he pointed his finger at the older Stilinski. “I’ll have you know I stopped liking her at the end of freshman year.”

“Strawberry blondes not your type?” His dad asked with a chuckle as he sipped his coffee.

“Something like that.” Stiles murmured to himself as he left the kitchen to get ready for school.

* * *

Stiles really had no idea why Scott and Kira were excited to attend a giant bonfire on their school grounds. It wasn’t like they didn’t spend enough time with their senior class members on a daily basis and they couldn’t even sneak alcohol if they tried. (Apparently last year someone had gotten so drunk they had almost jumped right into the fire). But his friends went with him to the basketball game, so Stiles supposed he could suck it up for one evening of school sanctioned activities that didn’t include watching Derek Hale completely dominate the field.

“Mom almost didn’t let me out of the house.” Scott complained as they moved through the parking lot, the sound of music and the smell of smoke strong. “She says there’s a really bad case of the flu going around and it’s bound to hit the high school any day.”

“Guess that means you can’t shove your tongue down Isaac’s throat tonight then.” Stiles teased as he playfully poked Scott in the ribs with his elbow.

“Kissing me is worth dying for.” Isaac said haughtily as he threw his arm around Scott’s neck, sticking his tongue out to try and lick his boyfriend’s face.

“Honestly, Kira,” Stiles said as he fell into step next to her, “how can you be friends with them?”

“Don’t you want Scott to become your step brother?” Kira asked with an arched eyebrow. “Thus potentially leaving you with Isaac as your future brother-in-law?”

“Oh god.” Stiles cried dramatically. “What have I done by getting my dad and Melissa together?”

The entire lacrosse field had been transformed into an area for the senior bonfire. The fire itself was set up in a large pit with several chairs and a s’mores station for people to make. There was a DJ on the other side of the field playing music, an area set aside for dancing, and a large table with snacks and drinks. Most, if not all, of their fellow classmates were there, the party in full swing. Stiles could just make out Derek on the side of the fire, closer to the dance area, with his friends. Just like he predicted Jennifer was right by his side, laughing much too loudly at everything Derek said. He ignored the twisting feeling in his stomach as Scott handed him a cup of warm cider.

They were just heading over to make s’mores when Erica and Lydia suddenly appeared right beside him. Stiles was a little taken aback at the identical mischievous grins on their faces when he turned to face them.

“How can I help you ladies?” Stiles asked as he inclined his red solo cup on their direction.

“So there may be this totally cute boy asking about you.” Erica said as she popped her bright, red cherry lips.

“About me?” Stiles asked with an amused expression.

“Yes,” Lydia said in a way that Stiles knew he wouldn’t be able to argue with her, “and we’re taking you to him immediately.”

Stiles threw a look at his friends, but they were all just grinning in response. He wanted to tell them  _ no thanks _ , but no one knew he and Derek were dating. Besides, it warmed his heart a little that Lydia and Erica cared enough to come drag him across the field just to meet a boy they thought was cute. And apparently interested in Stiles. He hadn’t met many people in school who had been interested in him. Most of his hookups came from his summer job.

“We’ll save you a s’more.” Kira said brightly as she gave Stiles a little shove in Lydia and Erica’s direction.

Stiles groaned as both girls grabbed his arm, pulling him in the direction their group was standing. He wondered how Derek would feel watching his friends introduce his secret boyfriend to some random guy who thought Stiles was cute. He snorted at the thought. Would Derek be jealous or find the whole thing amusing? Either way, Stiles was mildly curious at who could possibly be waiting for him.

“He’s totally your type.” Erica said, cutting off Lydia’s long list of mystery guy’s qualifications as the perfect date.

“I didn’t realize you knew my type.” Stiles said as he rolled his eyes.

“You mean exceptionally hot, probably unattainable, and a pair of hauntingly beautiful eyes?” Lydia asked with a smirk.

Stiles knew she was referring to herself, but as his gaze fell on Derek for a moment he couldn’t help, but think that maybe she was right. That was, until he realized who was waiting for him in the middle of Jennifer and Boyd. Stiles froze, his heels digging into the grass, his smile immediately dropping from his face. Theo turned so he was facing Stiles fully, his stupid shit eating grin on full display.

“Hey Stiles.” He said casually like they hadn’t had a heated exchange less than a week ago.

“What are you doing here, Theo?” Stiles asked, barely keeping the venom from his voice.

“Wait,” Erica said, smirk dropping slightly, “you two know each other already?”

“We worked together a few summers ago,” Theo explained, smile still pleasant as he looked at Stiles, “I guess you could say we’re old friends.” He added with a wink.

_ Stiles huffed out a tired breath as he stacked the last box of paperwork on the pile he had been working on. It was getting late and the first day of competition week started in the morning. It was Stiles’ favorite week of camp and he had just finished sorting through all of the health and registration forms. There were only a few more weeks left before summer came to an end and he would be heading back to school. A soft knock on the door startled him, but he smiled when he saw Theo standing in the doorway. _

_ “Hey, Theo,” Stiles said as he leaned against the desk, crossing his arms over his chest, “what’s up?” _

_ “Just checking in.” Theo said simply as he stepped inside. “Prep day is always the worst.” _

_ “Yeah,” Stiles snorted as he rolled his shoulders, “but this is one of the best weeks of camp.” _

_ “You know,” Theo said as he moved closer into Stiles’ space, a mischievous grin on the boy’s face, “I was pretty upset when my dad made me get a job at his boss’s family camp.” _

_ “Not humble at all, Theo.” Stiles teased. _

_ Theo chuckled. “I mean, I could be spending another summer by the pool doing absolutely nothing, but I have been pleasantly surprised with how much fun I’ve had here.” _

_ “Rich boy Theo enjoying his time slumming it with us normal people?” Stiles asked in mock shock. _

_ “It helps when you get to sleep with one of the head camp counselors.” Theo said as he reached his hands out, placing them against Stiles’ waist. _

_ Stiles pulled himself out of Theo’s grasp, giving him an apologetic smile. “I had fun, Theo, I did, but I’m not really looking for anything right now and I made that clear to you the other night.” _

_ Theo pouted as he moved closer to Stiles again. “You saying you didn’t have a good time?” _

_ “I did.” Stiles said as he tried to side step Theo, but was suddenly boxed in by Theo’s arms. Theo was bigger than Stiles and they both knew it. They also both knew that all of the staff were already in bed and the office was far enough away from the dorms that no one would hear much noise coming from the area. Stiles suddenly felt nervous, his mouth going dry as he tried to keep calm. “But I’m not interested right now.” _

_ He tried to duck under Theo, but Theo moved so that Stiles was trapped against the wall with very little room to escape. _

_ “So you’re just being a little tease then?” Theo asked, eyebrows raised. “That doesn’t seem fair.” _

_ “What’s not  _ **_fair_ ** **,** _ Theo,” Stiles replied sharply, “is you thinking I owe you anything outside of what we already talked about.”  _

_ “Mmm,” Theo hummed as he moved closer, pushing Stiles up against the wall, “so it’s true what they say about people like you. Good thing I’m an expert at taking what I want.” _

_ He roughly grabbed Stiles by the wrist, slamming him into the desk. Stiles felt Theo’s fingers pushing against his back, holding him in place over the desk. Fear and panic immediately took over, but Stiles’ father was the Sheriff and he had learned how to focus that energy into self-defense. He clawed at the wood, his nails breaking and bleeding as he grabbed the lamp sitting on the corner. His chest heaved, heart hammering as he felt Theo’s cold fingers reach beneath the waistband of his boxers. He took all of his strength and swung the lamp around, smacking Theo square in the jaw. _

_ “Fuck!” Theo cried out as he stumbled back. _

_ Stiles didn’t hesitate as he ran from the office, the sounds of Theo yelling “I see you like it rough, Stilinski” following him into the darkness.  _

“I saw you two flirting at the game,” Jennifer cut in, her voice sickenly sweet, “and thought it would be fun to invite Theo here.”

“Believe me,” Stiles said darkly, “we weren’t flirting.”

He couldn’t look at Derek -  _ wouldn’t look at Derek  _ \- because Stiles felt fucking sick. The last person he wanted to see, the last person he wanted Derek to think meant something to Stiles was Theo. Luckily, Lydia quickly picked up on the tension, her lips tightening into one of those smiles Stiles recognized as one she used for intimidation.

“Sorry, Theo,” Lydia said, hands on her hips, “looks like Stiles isn’t interested after all.”

Theo’s eyes darted to Lydia for a moment, sizing her up. Stiles knew how dangerous it would be to take on Lydia Martin, but Theo had money too. Lots of money. And he was in Michael Hale's back pocket.

“Stiles,” Theo said, turning away from Lydia seemingly undeterred, “maybe you and I could take a walk and you can tell me for yourself.”

Stiles took an automatic step back, hands already balling into fist in his pockets. “Pass,” he stated calmly, “but I’m sure Jackson will be happy to show you the exit. He’s good at escorting losers off of the lacrosse field.”

He could hear Jackson snort from besides him, making his lips crack into a grin for a moment before it quickly fell as Theo took a step towards him. He looked like he was ready to snatch Stiles’ by the wrist and drag him into the parking lot alone. 

“Once a tease always a tease.” Theo smirked.

Before he could reach out for Stiles another hand shot out, grabbing Theo by the arm, jerking him back. Theo let out a gasp of pain, eyes going wide as he came face to face with Derek.

“He said no.” Derek growled.

Stiles could see his muscles bulging even beneath his leather jacket, his jaw set in anger. He could have sworn he saw a flash of red, of pure fire overcome the grey-green of Derek’s eyes for a moment. Stiles hated how hot it was. Because  _ god damn _ .

“Tread lightly, Hale.” Theo snarled, all of his nice boy pretenses dropping immediately.

“Remember who my father is, Raekin.” Derek replied before he shoved Theo back, angling his body so he was standing just in front of Stiles protectively. “Come near Stiles again and it will be your last.”

Theo huffed angrily, throwing Stiles a sideways glance. “No worries, I don’t like slumming it with people like him anyway.” He spat before he gave Derek a long look, turning away and marching off the field.

“Stiles,” Erica said immediately, eyes full of guilt as the tension eased from the group, “we didn’t know you already knew hi-”

“It’s fine.” Stiles said with a small shrug of his shoulders. “Theo’s a dick.”

He offered Erica a half smile, not wanting her to feel bad for introducing him to an apparently ex-something. Jackson began saying something that caught most of the group’s attention and Stiles took the moment of distraction to look at Derek. He was already looking at Stiles, the corner of his eyes softer now, full of concern. Their fingers were only inches apart and Stiles let his pinky brush against Derek’s thumb, letting him know he was okay. He could still see Derek’s shoulders set, teeth clenched together, but he exhaled softly, leaning just a little bit closer. If things were different Stiles would have let himself fall against Derek’s chest, let himself be wrapped up in those big arms. If things were different he would have sought Derek’s lips against his forehead, a sweet and caring kiss to calm his anxieties.

“I, uh, should get back to my friends,” Stiles finally said, rubbing the back of his neck as he caught Jennifer watching him with interest, “so I’ll see you all around.”

He turned, fighting the terrible urge to look back at Derek as he put distance between them. He easily found his friends by the fire, a fresh s’more waiting on a paper plate just for him. Isaac and Kira were sharing a chair as Scott handed Stiles the plate with his famous lopsided smile on his face. 

“How was your romantic prospect?” Isaac asked as he wiped away melted marshmallow from his lip with his thumb.

“Turns out Theo just can’t get over me.” Stiles tried to say casually, but even with Derek and the others standing up for him he was still slightly shaken to see Theo again.

“WHAT?” Scott yelled, startling the group of cheerleaders that were standing right next to them. “Where is he?”

“Scott,” Stiles said, using his free hand to grab his best friend’s shoulder, grounding him, “it’s okay, he’s gone.”

“Why the hell was he here in the first place?” Isaac asked, venom in his voice.

“Yeah,” Kira chimed in, equally as upset, “he doesn’t even go to school here.”

“Jennifer thought she saw him flirting with me at the basketball game,” Stiles explained as he took a bit of his s’more, “and she figured she would do me the lovely favor of inviting him here.”

“You talked to Theo at the game?” Scott asked, almost pained, like he was disappointed he wasn’t there to fight Theo off himself.

“It was just for a second, besides I can handle myself.” Stiles said, feeling better the more time passed. Theo was gone for good it seemed. “Remember I did nearly break his jaw.”

“Wish you would have.” Isaac muttered darkly. “There’s still time to throw him into the fire.”

“He’s gone,” Stiles said with a roll of his eyes, but he was smiling now, “Derek took care of it.”

“Derek?” Kira asked.

“Yeah,” Stiles started, before he stopped himself, taking a deep breath, “he just, you know, puffed his chest out and stuff.”

“Huh.” Isaac said as he threw a look down to where Derek was standing. “Wish he would have punched Theo instead.”

Stiles just chuckled before he caught Scott giving him a curious look. “What?”

Scott blinked a few times, shaking his head before he wrapped his arm around Stiles’ shoulder. “Nothing, just glad you’re okay.”

Stiles gave his best friend a smile, but he couldn’t shake the distinct feeling that somehow Scott wasn’t telling him the truth.

* * *

_ Bang. Bang. Bang. _

_ “He’s trying to kill me! He’s going to kill me! GET OUT!” _

_He was here, always here. Always stuck in this tiny, godforsaken hospital room as the monster screamed, and snapped, and snarled, and_ ** _stalked_** _him._

_ “Stiles.” _

_ The hiss was sweet, too sweet, sickenly sweet and all Stiles could do was bang his fist against the door, harder, until his knuckles bled as those decaying fingers ran through his hair. _

_ Bang. Bang. BANG. _

Stiles was startled from his sleep, wrapped up in a blanket on top of his sheets. He had fallen asleep with the lights on, his computer screen flashing Netflix’s message of “Are you still watching” mockingly. He blinked a few times, shaking the sleep -  _ shaking the nightmare _ \- away as he untangled himself to stumble over to the window. There was another rapping sound and Stiles grinned as he pulled it open, allowing Derek to easily slide in over the sill.

“Did I wake you?” Derek asked with an amused expression as Stiles stifled a yawn.

“I must have fallen asleep while I was waiting for you.” Stiles said as he stretched his arms over his head, ignoring the ache in his muscles. 

“Sorry,” Derek said as Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek’s waist, pulling him closer, “it took forever for the group to decide where to eat and even longer what to eat.”

“All good.” Stiles hummed as he leaned forward, capturing Derek’s lips in a sweet and slow kiss. 

They stayed like that for a few moments, holding each other, exchanging lazy kisses. Derek’s hands slipped beneath Stiles’ shirt, resting at the small of his back, feeling warm against his skin.

“Stiles?” Derek asked after a while.

“Hmm?” Stiles looked up at Derek, noticing his boyfriend was now frowning, the same look of concern from earlier passing over his face.

“I-” Derek began before he took a moment, like he was thinking about his next words carefully, “if you don’t want to talk about it I understand, but what happened between you and Theo?”

Stiles knew it would be coming, but he gave Derek a soft smile as he pulled him over to the bed. Only a few people knew the truth about the incident with Theo, considering how it had all shaken out in the end. Derek took his hand, threading their fingers as Stiles recounted the tale. No matter how much time had passed Stiles could still remember the details. He could remember the smell of dust and the feel of splinters digging into his skin. He could remember the crickets chirping outside and the slant of the crescent moonlight through the window. He could remember the weight of the lamp in his hands as he swung it around and the burning in his lungs as he ran for help.

Derek had a death grip on his hand by the end of the story, a murderous look in his eye that made Stiles look for a flash of red he knew wasn’t there.

“I’m going to kill him.” Derek seethed before releasing Stiles’ hand, becoming aware that his hold had become painful.

“I’d like to see that.” Stiles snorted before he took Derek’s clenched fist, bringing them up to his lips, kissing his knuckles gently. “I almost broke his jaw, so he got what was coming to him.”

[“That’s](https://open.spotify.com/track/5bbhI383mI8Y9V3TRsEtIN?si=RPwlLlC2RhO8VlIPwDad0w) not enough.” Derek said, still angry, but he had uncurled his fingers, little moon shaped marks appearing on the palm of his hands. “He should have gotten in trouble.”

Stiles gave him a wry smile. “It pays to be in your dad’s pocket.”

“People shouldn’t get away with things just because they work with my father,” Derek said, suddenly standing, “he should know what happened. Maybe he won’t work with Theo’s father anymore.”

“One thing I’ve learned,” Stiles said giving Derek a bitter smile that didn’t fully reach his eyes, “is that when it comes down to it, they’re always going to believe people like Theo over people like me.”

Derek paused in his pacing, eyes wide as he looked at Stiles. “What do you mean?”

“I mean when Theo said it was just a misunderstanding and I was overreacting because I was stressed from the amount of work it reads as a better story,” Stiles stated matter-of-factly, because it was the truth and Stiles had long ago accepted it, “especially when his father already had your father on speedial.”

He could see the look of shock and horror on Derek’s face before it quickly melted into guilt.

“Stiles,” Derek murmured, “I am so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Stiles said because it wasn’t. Derek was not his father. Derek would never be his father no matter how much the man tried to make his son just like him.

“But because of  _ my father _ ,” Derek snarled, “you’ve suffered so much and-”

Stiles quickly stood up, his hands coming to cup Derek’s cheeks. “Derek, listen to me. You will never be anything like your father. You are so much more than his pre-destined plan. You’re kind and caring and the best person I have ever met.”

“ _ Stiles _ .” Derek whispered.

And Stiles was nodding his head because it was like Derek was asking permission and suddenly their lips crashed against each other. The buzzing electricity, the absolute feel of spark and magic running in Stiles’ veins as Derek touched him -  _ kissed him _ \- was almost too much to bear. Because he was in love with Derek Hale. He had fallen so fucking hard without looking where he would land and now that he was in the free fall it was too late. It was too late to stop the sweeping waves pulling him out to sea, too late to save himself from the inevitable because he was in love with Derek Hale. 

* * *

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Derek paused mid step, his head turning as he caught sight of his father sighting in the front parlor, reading the paper. His dark eyes flicked up to Derek for a moment, brow perfectly raised in question.

“I have plans.” Derek replied casually. He was allowed to have plans after all.

“Did you forget some very important clients and partners are coming around for lunch today?” His father asked, setting the paper down.

“No,” Derek said, raising his own eyebrow, hating how much it mirrored the older Hale, “but I was under the impression I didn’t have to attend.”

“And what gave you that impression?” His father asked calmly, but Derek could hear that dangerous edge. His father was always so controlled, so put together, but Derek had known the man all his life. He knew the subtleties of Michael Hale.

“Because you didn’t say the entire family was supposed to come.” Derek retorted. He knew to win the argument he had to remain calm, present the facts. His father had not made it a requirement that he was to attend, so he couldn’t be held accountable. He was going to Stiles’ scholarship ceremony. He promised.

Michael exhaled deeply, rubbing his temples. Never a good sign. Derek braced for impact.

“Derek,” His father began, “if you’re going to take over for me someday you must learn to be assertive and know that your presence at these lunches and dinners are expected whether I invite you personally or not.”

“Funny how I can’t always read your mind, father.” Derek snapped. “Like I said, I already have plans.”

He started for the front door, determined to get out. His father couldn’t hold him hostage, not this time.

“And what plans do you have?” His father called from behind him.

Derek paused, hand resting against the door knob. Stiles was his friend, people knew that. It wouldn’t be strange to say he was going to support his friend. He could tell his father the truth, see what he thought about his son spending time with Stiles. He would have to tell his father eventually, might as well take baby steps, right?

“Lydia Martin is getting a scholarship award,” Derek said, his gut twisting from the lie, “and I wanted to show my support.”

Stiles’ name had been right there, but some deep, primal fear kept it from coming out. All he could hear were Stiles’ words running over and over again in his mind. 

_ One thing I’ve learned is that when it comes down to it, they’re always going to believe people like Theo over people like me. _

Derek knew his father was a powerful man. He’d already indirectly taken away so much from Stiles. If his father found out what he and Derek were doing and didn’t like it then there was the very real possibility that Stiles would no longer be allowed to go to Berkeley. And Derek couldn’t live with himself if he was the reason Stiles couldn’t attend his dream school. So he lied.

“I’m sure Lydia won’t be too upset if you cancelled,” Michael stated, “I’ll have my people send her some white lilies as a congratulations.”

Derek felt like he was going to be sick. White fucking lilies. His hand tightened around the door knob. “That won’t be necessary if I just go-”

“It’s not up for debate,” Michael snapped and now Derek knew he had lost, “now go change into something more suitable for lunch.” Derek threw his head over his shoulder, watching as his father began to retreat back into the parlor. “I can’t believe your mother allowed Laura to buy you that jacket in the first place.”

Derek’s fingers ran over the worn leather of his favorite jacket. It was something he was well known for in school, the one thing that he didn’t have to really hide when he was in public. It was part of him and the fact that his father hated it made him love it that much more. He swallowed a hard lump that had formed in his throat as he pulled his phone from his pocket. His fingers trembled as they ran over the keys, heart aching as he sent the message.

_ D: Hey, my father isn’t letting me leave, says I need to stay for an important “business lunch”. I won’t be able to make it to the ceremony. I’m really sorry. _

He could feel his heart in his throat, the looming threat of bile rising hanging over him as he waited for Stiles to respond. He trudged back upstairs, each step feeling like he was marching closer and closer to his imprisonment than lunch with his family. It wasn’t until he was dressed in what his father would deem appropriate that he heard his phone buzzing from the night stand. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the bitter disappointment.

_ S: No worries, it’s just an award ceremony, nothing crazy.  _

_ D: You know I want to be there, right? I hate this.  _

_ S: I know. It’s okay, Derek. You can just make it up to me later ;) _

Derek felt the knots in his stomach loosen just a bit. He would never know how he found someone as understanding as Stiles. He knew that Stiles was disappointed, but he never made it a point to make Derek feel bad or guilty. Derek just wanted to give Stiles the world - no, the  _ universe _ \- and still, it would never be enough. Maybe one day Derek could become the person that Stiles deserved.

The only thing that made the lunch tolerable was that somehow Cora had been made to suffer right along with him. They could throw sideways glances and share eyerolls when their father spoke, with only Peter catching them with an amused expression every now and then. The only thing that made it worse was that Jennifer was there. Luckily, he was spared from talking with her too indepthly as his father and his partners were doing most of the talking. He could ignore her insistent stares much easier when she wasn’t running her mouth.

“Allan Deaton will be out the following week,” one of the partners said as he passed around a folder to Michael,”one his honeymoon in Hawaii.”

“Yes,” Michael said with a small nod of his head, “remind Bradeon to send Mr. Deaton and his husband a bouquet of lilies as congratulations.”

Derek nearly dropped his fork on his plate at his father’s words. A clutter of silverware next to him told him that Cora  _ did _ drop her fork. The noise startled the men seated around the table, all of their gazes turning towards where he and Cora were sitting. Derek quickly schooled his face, looking mildly interested, while Cora sat wide eyed, looking directly at their father. Derek could feel his own heartbeat pumping in his chest and he knew that if he got close enough to his sister he’d be able to hear hers too.

“Something wrong, Cora?” Michael asked not unkindly. 

“Mr. Deaton got married?” She asked her voice full of something Derek recognized as  _ hope _ . “To a man?”

“Yes,” Michael replied, his eyes already turning back down to the file, “that is what people do when they are in love.”

“And you don’t care?” Cora continued, ignoring that everyone was listening intently to what she was saying, eyes moving between father and daughter.

Derek knew why Cora was asking. He knew because he had seen the way Cora had looked at Allison when they were growing up, going on vacations together. He had seen the way Cora was around Kira. Cora was testing the waters, wondering -  _ worrying _ \- about the same thing Derek had been wondering for many years. He held his breath as he watched Michael carefully take his glasses off, eyebrows raising as he looked at Cora. Out of the corner of Derek’s eye he could see Peter’s jaw tighten, eyes narrowed as he watched Michael.

“My client’s personal lives are their own business as long as it doesn't hurt mine,” Michael stated calmly, “people are free to marry who they like.”

Derek couldn’t believe the words out of his father’s mouth. There had to be a catch. There just fucking had to be.

“As long as our children lead more traditional lives.” Jennifer’s dad added in as he took a sip from his glass.

“Yes,” his father agreed, “we hold a few more traditional values in this household.”

And there it was.

He could see the absolute look of devastation pass over Cora’s face, just for a moment, before she became a blank slate, her eyes turning down to her plate. Derek kept his gaze firm on that ugly vase of white lilies sitting just behind Jennifer’s father. 

He really fucking hated white lilies. 

The conversation returned to business as the next course as served, but neither Derek nor Cora touched their plate. Derek just felt like he was going to be sick, but excusing himself from the table just wasn’t an option. The world around him faded into a blur and he felt detached, like he wasn’t really there anymore. He had known. Of course he had known, but hearing the words out loud shattered any delusional dream Derek had of everything being okay. His father was never going to accept who he really was and who he really loved. Now the question was how far his father would be willing to go to make sure Derek and Stiles couldn’t be together? 

“And of course congratulations are in order to Jennifer,” Derek heard his father say, “for getting accepted into Berkeley and Stanford.”

The sound of applause around the table snapped Derek out of his dissociation. His head snapped in Jennifer’s direction, trying to give her a smile as he felt tears pricking in the corner of his eyes. It was too much all too much.

“Thank you,” Jennifer said, beaming, “I haven’t decided yet, but I know Derek is going to Berkely, and well, I can’t imagine us not attending college together.”

Blood. Derek could feel sharp, metallic, thick,  _ blood _ pooling in his mouth from where he had bit down on the inside of his cheek to stop a deep, heartbreaking sob from ripping right through his lips. He quietly excused himself to the bathroom, thankful that all eyes were not on him. Only Peter and Cora watched him go, matching somber expressions across their faces. Once he was out of the dining room Derek sprinted to his bathroom. He made it just in time, white knuckling the toilet, heaving up the contents of his stomach until he couldn’t breathe.

Berkeley was supposed to be their safe place. It was their chance to be themselves without anyone watching. Now,  _ now _ , that had been taken from them too. Derek leaned his head against the cool seat, fighting everything that was threatening to burst from his chest. He couldn’t carry on like this. Eventually the dam would burst and the water would sweep everything away, sweep Derek away until he drowned.

He wondered if his father would send white lilies to his funeral.

* * *

[The](https://open.spotify.com/track/0uFZVcY5bL9yTkxyO8sCic?si=MQr8Z_mHRTKuusQlQTaWAw) day was unusually warm for the beginning of March, a taste of spring on the tails of winter. Derek sat on his window seat, knees pulled up to his chest as he watched Cora, Peter, and Stiles race the horses around the prairie. He hadn’t been able to see Stiles last night as he was hanging out with his father, Melissa, and his friends for most of the evening. Even now, with Stiles so close, Derek already felt like he was too far out of his reach. Their relationship had already felt so much like an impossibility, but the walls were finally closing in. Warm rays of sun fell over Stiles’ face as he threw his head back, laughing, his horse pulling into a slow walk. His hair was slightly windswept and Derek imagined his honey-whiskey eyes sparkling gold in the right light. 

_ “Derek?” _

_ Derek hurriedly wiped at his eyes, sniffling as he stumbled back behind the treeline, out of sight of the person who had just called his name. He wasn’t supposed to cry, but he couldn’t help himself. After they had returned from the funeral Derek needed to see the purple coneflower garden hidden just behind the house. One brush of fingers against the soft petals was all it took for the tears to spill hot and heavy down his cheeks. _

_ “You don’t need to hide from me.” Derek recognized his uncle’s voice, low and soft just beyond the trees. “Your mother said she tried to talk to you, but you ran away.” _

_ Derek wiped at his eyes again, his palm pulling against the skin of his cheek. “It’s not fair.” He said from the tree he was hiding behind. Derek’s Tree. “Stiles doesn’t have a mom, but I do. It’s not fair.” _

_ “I know.” Peter said and Derek could see his uncle carefully sitting down on the grass, still dressed in his suit. _

_ “Dad wouldn’t even let me near Stiles.” Derek continued, lip trembling. Why didn’t his mother take Derek with her? She could have overruled their father. Why didn’t she do something so Derek could say goodbye too? _

_ “It’s okay to feel sad, Derek.” Peter said calmly. _

_ Derek took a step out from behind the tree, watching his uncle wearily before he slowly made his way over, sitting down next to the older man. _

_ “It’s okay for mom to feel sad,” Derek replied numbly, “and maybe Laura, but dad told me-” _

_ “Forget what your father said.” Peter said with a kind of iciness in his voice, before it melted away as he gave Derek a small smile. “You lost someone very important to you. Stiles lost someone very important to him and you are upset to see someone you care about in pain.” _

_ “How can I help Stiles?” Derek asked, grey-green eyes wide as he looked up at his uncle. _

_ “Just be there for him when he needs it.” Peter answered. _

_ Derek nodded his head. “Stiles is the most important thing to me.” _

_ “Then you will find a way.” Peter gripped his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.  _

He could see Peter and Cora walking towards the house from the barn and Derek was suddenly on his feet. He ducked into the empty study as he heard the front door open, his back pressed against the dark, wooden walls. He waited until he heard Peter and Cora pass the entrance, chatting happily, before the sound of the conversation faded as they headed towards the kitchen. Derek quietly opened the door, slipping out unnoticed. Stiles was in the barn, finishing up his shift, but he stopped when he heard the door open.

“Hey,” Stiles said, that too big, too bright smile filling his face, nearly taking out Derek’s heart with it, “I saw you sitting in your room.”

“Yeah,” Derek said, rubbing the back of his neck, “sorry, I was somewhere else.”

“Cora told me.” The smile was still there, but now it was a little bittersweet.

“It doesn’t matter.” Derek said with a shake of his head. “I’m not letting you go.”

Stiles tilted his head to the side, licking his lips before he took a deep breath. There was still a half smile lingering there and Derek couldn’t take it anymore. He pressed forward, cupping Stiles’ face, pulling him into a kiss. He would find a way. They would find a way. Stiles nuzzled his nose against Derek’s, their foreheads touching.

“I love you.” Stiles said like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“I know.” Derek smiled against Stiles’ skin.

Stiles laughed before he was kissing Derek again. As Stiles moved his mouth hot and heavy against Derek’s, hands holding him like he would never let go, Derek knew -  _ he just fucking knew _ \- he would risk it all for the boy who had stolen his heart.

* * *

_ Stiles stared at the door. He knew where the chips in the paint were. A scuff mark that resembled a lightning bolt. A crack in the corner of the window glass. The faded mint green color that looked sickly pale in the cheap, fluorescent lights. He stared at the door because it had become a familiar routine in his life. He stared at the door, waiting for his father to give the go ahead to walk inside. He stared at the door because sometimes he wasn’t allowed inside. He stared at the door, holding his breath, finally releasing it when he was told he could go in. _

_ “Go on, Stiles,” his father said with an encouraging smile that didn’t meet his eyes, “it’s okay.” _

_ Stiles nodded his head, pushing open the door to his mother’s hospital room. Somedays he wasn’t allowed inside because his mother’s condition was deemed as “not fit for her nine year old son to see”. To Stiles it was just less time to see his mother. He loved her no matter what. Even when she forgot his name or his birthday or his favorite color. Stiles closed the door behind him, hearing the lock click quietly. Apparently - he had overheard Melissa tell his dad when they both thought he was sleeping in a waiting room chair - that his mom had escaped her room and went to the roof of the hospital. Now they kept it locked from the inside, just in case. _

_ Stiles could hear the beeping of the heart monitor, the noises of various machines humming in the background. He could hear his mom’s even breaths, which meant she was sleeping. This didn’t deter Stiles one bit. He pulled up a chair next to his mother’s bed, setting his backpack on the floor with a dull thud. He grabbed one of the books he had been reading at the station before they had left for the hospital. _

_ “Did you know that Redwoods can reach higher than 300 feet?” Stiles asked aloud as he often did when his mother was sleeping. “Dad showed me pictures of your trip. They looked really big.” _

_ He heard a shift in the sheets, his eyes darting up to see his mother adjusting, but not waking up from her slumber. He quickly averted his gaze, hating how shallow her cheeks were, like she was more skeleton than human. He cleared his throat, flipping the page of the book. _

_ “They can live as long as 2000 years,” Stiles continued, “and are considered some of the oldest living organisms on earth.” He traced his fingers over the picture of a redwood. “I don’t think I would be a redwood. I mean they’re cool, like really cool, like someday I want to see them cool, but 2000 years is a long time and I think I would miss everyone.” _

_ “MmmStiles?” _

_ Stiles placed his palms against his book, slowly tilting his head up until he caught a sliver of amber peaking out at him. He could see the fog of confusion in her eyes, lips turning down as she pushed herself to a seat position. _

_ “Mom?” He asked, a terrible prickling sensation creeping up his spine. _

_ “What are you doing here?” She asked, eyes blinking open wider, but they were unfocused, like she was looking through him and not at him. _

_ Stiles swallowed the small lump in his throat, eyes darting to the door. His dad was just on the other side, talking to the doctor. He was safe. They had let him come in so he was safe. _

_ “I’m here to see you.” He replied hesitantly. _

_ Claudia shook her head, dark hair falling into her face, making her look wild. She began picking at the tubes in her skin, like she was trying to pull them out with haste. “No, no you can’t be here.” _

_ Stiles felt frozen in his chair, the prickling sensation getting worse, making the hair on the back of his neck stand up. “Mom I-” _

_ “Don’t!” She snarled and now Stiles was afraid. “You’re killing me. They let you in here and you’re killing me!” _

_ Stiles jumped up from the chair, the book falling to the ground, forgotten. She had the tubes and the IV ripped from skin, blood dripping onto the cream colored blankets. _

_ “Mom please…” Stiles begged as tears filled his eyes. He wasn’t killing her. Why would he do that? He wanted to save her! He wanted her to live! He loved her! How could she think such a horrible thing. _

_ “Get out!” She screeched as she moved towards him. _

_ Stiles quickly ducked under her arms, heading straight for the door. He grabbed the door knob, turning and pulling with all of his might, but it wouldn’t give. _

_ “YOU’RE KILLING ME STILES!” _

_ Stiles screamed as he banged his fist against the door because he needed to get out, out _ **_, out_ ** _! He felt nimble fingers wrapping around his arm, yanking him harshly. And this couldn’t be his mother. It was a monster. A monster had taken her and now it was coming for him and he could barely hear his own sobs over her shouting. The door burst open and he was in his dad’s arms as two nurses rushed in. Stiles’ shoulder throbbed with pain, little fingerprint bruises forming across his skin, but nothing hurt more than hearing his mother hysterically cry “he’s killing me” over and over again until she was sedated. _

Stiles felt his knees buckle as he fell to the bathroom floor, retching into the toilet, until he felt like there was nothing left. He was hot all over, sweat dripping down his forehead. He shivered despite the heat, trying to decide whether he should turn the cold or hot water on in the shower. If he could even make it to the shower, that is. He could hear the small tick of the clock sitting on the shelf just above him. He vaguely made out the time as somewhere close to four thirty in the morning. Stiles groaned as he collapsed against the beige tiled floor. It felt good against his sweltering skin. He sighed thinking about how he had midterms starting in just a few hours. His head was pounding like crazy, his mouth dry and filled with the sour tang of acidity.

_ “You have the flu, Little Mischief.” Claudia said with a sad smile as she ran her hand over his forehead. _

He hadn’t meant to fall asleep on the bathroom floor, but the sound of his father’s alarm jolted him awake, his stomach lurching uncomfortably at the movement. His fevered sleep against the tile hadn’t made him feel any better, in fact, Stiles felt much worse. He managed to get the water started as he climbed into the tub. He had settled for a lukewarm temperature, the water hitting his skin in an uneven pattern as the pressure waxed and waned from the rusted showerhead.

“Stiles,” he heard his father call from the door, “I’ll be out of town today picking up some casefiles, if you need anything-”

“Call Melissa.” Stiles said, choking back the urge to puke again.

Noah chuckled, quietly closing the door. “Love you, son, see you tonight.”

“Love you too, dad.” Stiles replied before promptly throwing up.

He knew breakfast wasn’t an option as he passed through the kitchen, fooling himself into thinking he felt better after sitting in the shower for the better part of an hour. He did manage to drink three full glasses of water, not even close to quenching his thirst before heading to school. Despite the chilly morning Stiles still felt like he was on the surface of the fucking sun. He struggled to keep his eyes open as he drove to school. He was glad his dad hadn’t seen him or he would have been locked in his room for the entire day. Stiles couldn’t miss his midterms, not when so many things depended on him getting good grades. Scheduling to make them up was nearly impossible and he didn’t need to add makeup tests to his already stressed timeline. 

He just needed to suck it up for a few hours. Maybe he could nap at lunch. The school was already humming with nervous energy, but all Stiles could focus on was the slow beat of his heart, the pounding in his head, and fighting the desire to just pass out onto the floor. The feeling of hands squeezing his shoulders nearly made him vomit for the fourth time that morning, but he reigned it in as he turned to see Scott gripping his shoulders, smiling fondly.

“You ready for…” his smile quickly dropped, his baby browns filling with concern as he got a good look at Stiles’ paler than normal face. “Stiles, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Stiles said in a voice that clearly stated otherwise. He flinched at the lie, noting how bad it sounded as Scott, Isaac, and Kira gave him an identical look of disbelief. “It’s just stress from midterms and lack of sleep from studying.” 

_ From nightmares _ .

He quickly closed his locker, determinedly marching towards his first class, ignoring how off balance he felt as he walked. His friends quickly caught up to him, much to his chagrin.

“Go home, Stiles.” Isaac said bluntly.

“And give Harris a reason to fail me?” Stiles chewed out.

“He won’t fail you if you’re sick.” Kira said kindly as she placed an arm on his shoulder, trying to slow him down.

Stiles laughed. “I could be six feet underground and Harris would  _ still _ fail me for not showing up.”

“He has a point.” Isaac supplied unhelpfully, earning a glare from Scott and Kira.

“Stiles, if you’re not feeling better by lunch I’m calling my mom.” Scott said with note of finality in his voice, leaving no room for Stiles to argue.

“Fine.” Stiles replied through gritted teeth. “But I’ll probably be fine by then.”

Stiles was not fine by then. He had barely made it through Harris’ midterm, the words blurring together on the page. He had nearly collapsed during his English midterm, and excused himself to the bathroom halfway through to vomit before returning to finish the exam. He could feel his shirt beneath his red hoodie damp from sweat, the pain from his head radiating behind his eyes and down his neck.

_ D: Hey you missed our meetup before lunch, everything okay? _

Stiles just stared at his phone from his curled up position on the bathroom floor. He’d been there for the past ten minutes, finding it difficult to move. He had survived the morning, but making it through the afternoon seemed daunting and impossible. He closed his eyes, his breath fogging the dirty, white laminate floors in the men’s locker room.

_ “You have the flu, Little Mischief.” Claudia said with a sad smile as she ran her hand over his forehead. “You need rest and your mother’s famous homemade chicken soup.” _

_ “With the goldfish crackers?” Stiles asked, half asleep beneath the covers of his parent’s bed. It was a special privilege to sleep there only given to him when he was sick. _

_ “Of course.” She said with a smile as she leaned down, kissing his forehead. _

“Stiles?”

Stiles felt his eyelids flutter half open. He really needed to stop falling asleep on bathroom floors. The voice called his name again and he was surprised to hear that it didn’t belong to any of the other students.

“Melissa?” he called back, picking himself up off of the ground. 

He unlatched the lock, pushing the door open. He spotted Melissa hesitantly standing by the door, making sure no one else was in the room before she entered. Scott was right behind her and Stiles would have felt betrayed, except all he could do was feel relief at seeing Melissa pin him with a look of concern that reminded him of his mother.

“Sweetie,” Melissa said, crossing over to where he was immediately feeling his forehead, “you’re burning up. You’re probably running a high fever, how many times have you thrown up today?”

“Do you want me to include the first time at four this morning or just when I got to school?” He blurted out.

“You’ve been puking since four in the morning?” Scott asked, horrified.

“Stiles,” Melisa chided gently, taking his arm and pulling him towards the door, “I’m going to take you to the hospital.”

“No hospital!” Stiles said, panicked. They had enough bills as it was. His father didn’t need to take on any more debt from that place. “Just - just take me home.”

Melissa shook her head. “You’re severely dehydrated and if I had to guess your temperature is somewhere around a hundred and four. You need fluids and medicine. It would just be for a few hours.”

Stiles didn’t want to go to the hospital. It was the last place on earth he wanted to be, but Melissa had that determined look in her eye and he knew fighting it was going to be useless. Especially if she called his dad, who would make sure Stiles made it to the hospital in handcuffs if necessary.

“Fine.” He sighed in defeat.

Melissa gave him a small smile, squeezing his hand. Scott hurried over, wrapping his arm around Stiles’ waist, letting his best friend lean all of his weight against him. Stiles let his head fall onto Scott’s shoulder, eyes half closing again. He didn’t really remember the walk to the car, but he dug his fingernails into the fabric of the front seat, trying to keep from dry heaving onto the floor.

“Scott says you haven’t been eating a lot recently.” Melissa said as chanced a sideways glance at him.

Stiles froze and despite everything else he was feeling, that sick sense of  _ fear _ and  _ panic _ were taking over.

“Scott only says that because he just eats double of everything else.” He tried for a laugh, but his body refused.

“Is that why he’s been packing two sandwiches almost everyday the past few months?” Melissa asked.

“I-” Stiles began, because he had an explanation, he did! It was the stress. It had to be, because the alternative meant…

_ The alternative meant... _

“I haven’t been sleeping either.” Stiles said before he could stop himself. It was just like when he was in the car with Scott a few months ago. He had been holding it in so long, not even telling Derek, that it felt  _ right _ to get it off his chest. Because Melissa knew. Melissa understood. Melissa was the closest thing he had to a mother and that’s what he needed the most right now. A mother. “It was fine for a while, but recently it’s been bad again.”

Melissa reached across the middle, taking Stiles’ hand in her own. “You’re going to be just fine, Stiles.”

Stiles wanted to believe her. He wanted to believe Scott. He wanted to believe that the monster was just a nightmare, that it wasn’t real and it wasn’t coming to get him.

“What if I have it?” He asked aloud. 

It was something they all agreed to never speak about. What if Stiles Stilinski had the same disease that killed Claudia? They didn’t talk about it because they couldn’t accept it if it were true. For a while, it had worked. Stiles didn’t think about it, didn’t worry too hard, but over the past few years the lingering doubts came. And now they were no longer lingering. They had wormed their way right in.

Melissa pressed her lips together in a thin line, her hand gripping Stiles’ a little tighter. “You’re not going anywhere.”

Despite the worry and the fear and the feeling of wanting to pass out Stiles smiled. They were the same words with the same firm tone of belief that Scott had. He felt his eyes getting heavy, his head leaning against the window, listening to the soothing sound of rain patter against the glass.

“Thanks, mom.” He murmured before falling asleep.

* * *

_ Bang. Bang. BANG. _

_ “He’s trying to kill me! He’s going to kill me! GET OUT!” _

_ The monster had her claws around him now, jerking him back, pulling him away from the door. Away from salvation. Stiles screamed and screamed and screamed because she wouldn’t let him go, dragging him further into the darkness. _

_ “Stiles, come with me, honey.” _

_ And when he turned he came face to face with the thing that scared him the most in the world. She had no eyes, jaw unhinged with rows and rows and rows of sharp teeth, and ash covered skin. _

_ “I’m going to get you.” She said in  _ **_her_ ** _ voice right before she swallowed him whole. _

Stiles was screaming and crying and thrashing because he needed to escape, always needed to escape because he was alone with the monster. He was alone until he felt strong arms wrap around him, a familiar voice cutting through the haze and the panic.

“Stiles, please, it’s me!”

Derek. It was Derek. Derek had come to save him from the monster. Stiles took a deep, shuddering breath as his finger firmly gripped Derek’s shirt. Derek was his anchor. Derek was his anchor.  _ Derek was his anchor _ .

“Stiles, it’s okay.” Derek’s voice was filled with pain and when Stiles’ found his grey-green eyes glistening with what he could have sworn were tears, did he finally relax in Derek’s hold.

“You’re here.” Stiles said as he felt Derek’s lips brush against his forehead.

“I was worried when Scott told me his mom took you to the hospital.” Derek murmured, and now Stiles could feel the rapid beat of his boyfriend’s heart.

“It’s just the flu.” Stiles replied with a grim smile. “Sorry I didn’t text you, I was a bit out of it.”

While he didn’t feel even close to better, the fluids and the medicine definitely allowed him to feel like he wasn’t dying anymore. Melissa had kept her word, bringing him home after a few hours of rest and rehydration. She sat on the couch and together they had watched trash television until his father had gotten home.

“You were having a nightmare.” Derek said, the pain in his voice returning.

“It happens.” Stiles said with a slight shrug of his shoulders.

“Didn’t seem like a normal nightmare.” Derek tried catching his eye, eyebrow rising in a way that told Stiles he wanted to know so that he could help.

But Stiles didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want Derek to worry or be afraid of what Stiles could become. There were already so many things just waiting to rip them apart, Stiles didn’t want to add one more.

“I’m safe with you.” Stiles said as he nuzzled into his boyfriend’s neck, taking in a deep breath of  _ Derek _ that sent a wave of calm through his tired body.

He could feel Derek smiling as he kissed Stiles’ forehead again. He quickly took off his shoes, slipping out of his leather jacket before pulling Stiles back into his arms. They settled into Stiles’ bed together, Stiles pressed against Derek’s chest. Stiles’ breathing fell into sync with Derek’s, his eyes growing heavy with sleep.

“I’ll stay.” Derek whispered, running his fingers in soothing circles against the small of Stiles’ back.

Stiles smiled as he held onto Derek a little tighter, falling into a dreamless sleep for the first time in a long while.

* * *

Derek had been dreading the arrival of the Argent family to the ranch. Up until this point he had been able to avoid Kate since Christmas and even ducked out from under Gerard’s watchful gaze. The eldest Argent had been paying closer attention to Derek whenever he was around and Derek didn’t like it. It was like Gerard was looking for a chink in Derek’s armour, a weak point he could show his father, to deliver some fatal blow. He hated Gerard even more for zeroing in on Stiles whenever given the chance. If there was one person Derek wanted to protect Stiles from it was Gerard Argent. He knew his father could pull strings in places, but Gerard was one of those people that seemed like they would do whatever it took to keep the status quo.

So it was with great annoyance and anxiety that Derek handed a bouquet of white lilies to Kate Argent as soon as she walked in the door. He tried not to grimace too hard when she kissed his cheek, ignoring the way her hand slipped down to his butt when she pulled him in for a hug.

“Derek, you grow more handsome every time I see you.” She said sweetly, her blonde curls spilling over her shoulder.

Jennifer may have been insufferable, but she wasn’t Kate Argent. He was sure that if Kate had been his age then she would have been the one he was “promised” to and Derek knew he would have been absolutely miserable if that were the case. Kate was aggressive and didn’t like to take no for an answer. He was sure that even if he were to marry Jennifer that Kate would somehow worm her way in to have an affair. She was always looking at Derek with hungry eyes, getting close, but never close enough to touch because he had been a minor. Now that he was eighteen it felt like open season.

“Wow, Kate,” Cora chirped in, “are those wrinkles? Looks like the botox isn’t working, maybe you should find a new doctor.”

Derek nearly snorted as he watched Kate’s smile drop instantly. “Looks like they let the little monster out of its cage.” She snarked back.

Cora just continued to smile pleasantly, batting her eyelashes in innocence. Kate shoved past Cora harshly, following her brother and sister-in-law to the west wing where they would be staying for the weekend.

“She’s going to poison your tea now.” Derek chuckled as they watched her go.

“Not unless I poison hers first.” Cora replied with a grin and a shrug of her shoulders. “Come on, Stiles is here early and we can dick around in the barn before we go out for a ride.”

Derek let a half smirk curl against his lips as he followed his sister out the front door. He had told Stiles he didn’t need to be here considering he had been sick for most of the week. Derek was selfishly happy to see Stiles, especially when he would have to deal with Kate all weekend, but he hated how much Stiles was pushing himself. Stiles had insisted that he felt better and that the money was too good to pass up, but Derek could see the dark circles beneath Stiles’ eyes and knew he wasn’t eating nearly as much as he should be.

Still, he greeted them with his too big, too bright smile as they entered the barn and it took all of Derek’s willpower not to kiss Stiles right there. He would be there most of the weekend, taking the group out for a smaller ride this evening and a longer one tomorrow. Waking up next to Stiles had been the best feeling in the world, even if it was much too early in the morning. He loved the way the rays of sun slanted over Stiles’ face, the soft snores that escaped his parting lips as he clung to Derek in his sleep. Derek loved seeing the peek of amber through half open lids before he leaned down, kissing Stiles’ awake. Nothing had ever felt so right in his entire life and Derek wanted to do it over and over again. He wanted to wake up next to Stiles for the rest of forever.

So despite the risk he stayed over again, because that feeling -  _ that feeling of waking in Stiles’ arms  _ \- was worth it. Until he snuck into the kitchen just past sunrise once he was home to grab a quick snack before crashing in his bed and a familiar voice startled him from the coffee bar. 

“Just getting in?” Gerard asked with a pleasant smile as he looked up from his newspaper.

Derek swallowed a lump in his throat, fighting the urge to adjust his sweatshirt to make sure that the bruises dusted along his collarbone were covered. 

“Just a late night party with some friends.” Derek said casually, shrugging his shoulders as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

Gerard chuckled. “I was once your age too, son. Sneaking out of the house to meet girls and drink cheap booze at my friend’s houses.”

Derek just nodded his head, not really sure how to respond. He got the distinct feeling that Gerard didn’t fully believe his lie, but unless he had followed Derek then he couldn’t prove it otherwise. He started to move out of the kitchen, wanting to put as much distance between himself and Gerard as possible.

“Just be careful,” Gerard warned and Derek could hear the rustling of paper, indicating that the older man was looking over it again, “wouldn’t want your father catching you somewhere you shouldn’t be.”

* * *

Derek was happy for the fresh air, the sun poking out from behind gray clouds warming the chilly day. He kept his horse next to Cora as they followed Stiles along the trail, avoiding Kate as much as possibly. Luckily, Cora liked riding near Stiles which meant he could happily engage in conversation with the two of them. It was strange having the entire family out for a ride, it was something they rarely did anymore. His father only ever rode if one of his partners or clients wanted to go.

“The spot we’ll be going to today is the perfect place to look for wildflowers.” Stiles chatted happily. “The first few colors of spring should be blooming right about now.”

Cora asked him questions about the different flowers that bloomed throughout the year and Derek just listened intently as Stiles talked. He was reminded so much of Claudia that it nearly took his breath away. When he turned, catching his mother’s eyes he knew she saw it too. She was smiling fondly, her eyes slightly glazed over, like she was lost in another time. Sometimes Derek forgot he and Laura weren’t the only ones who had lost Stiles and Claudia. His mother had been hurting in silence that first year after Claudia’s passing. Sometimes Derek would find crying as she looked out the window at some far off point he couldn’t see.

_ “Mom?” Derek asked as he hesitantly stepped into the library. He had been heading to his room to pack his things for basketball camp when he heard the sound of sniffling. _

_ “Derek, sweetie,” she said as she hastily wiped her aways, forcing a shaky smile to her lips, “aren’t you supposed to be packing?” _

_ Derek stopped just in front of his mother, swallowing a lump in his throat. He had been treating her unfairly the past few weeks. He was afraid to be around her, guilty that she was still here when Stiles’ didn’t have a mother anymore. He was angry with her for not taking him with her to say goodbye. For letting their father send white lilies instead of coneflowers. For letting their father take Stiles away. _

_ “I’m sorry.” He murmured shamefully, digging his shoe into the carpet, his eyes on the floor. _

_ “Derek-” his mother began kindly, but she was cut off as he crashed into her arms. _

_ “I miss them so much.” Derek said, choking down a sob. His father was driving him to camp later that day and he didn’t want his father to know he had been crying. _

_ Talia pulled Derek tighter against her chest. “I miss them too.” _

The view from their stopping point was spectacular and Derek wished he took more time to spend in the preserve. He had his morning runs, but he had practically grown up in these woods and now he felt like they were almost a stranger to him. The day had been going pretty well as he searched the surrounding area for coneflowers even though he knew it was much too early for them when Kate cornered him against a giant pine tree.

“The view is nice, but I can think of something that looks much nicer.” She said, her eyes dropping to where his abs were hiding beneath his jacket and hoodie. She licked her lips hungrily as she drew closer to Derek.

Derek knew he needed to tread lightly as his father and Gerard were close, but he also wasn’t going to back down as Kate advanced on him. “Kate,” he said warningly, “watch yourself.”

“Come on, Derek” Kate purred, “are you telling me you don’t like what you see?”

“I think he’s telling you that he’s not interested.” Stiles cut in from just behind them. His jaw was set, arms crossed over his chest as he glared at Kate.

“And how would you know that stable boy?” Kate sneered as she fixed Stiles with a look of disgust.

But Stiles didn’t back down. “Seems pretty obvious to me, come on Derek.”

Derek moved around Kate without a word, only chancing a quick glance in her direction as he caught up to where Stiles’ was. He expected her to look pissed off, but she was just watching the two of them through narrowed eyes. Derek decided that look was much more terrifying as he faced forward, falling into step with his boyfriend.

“Thanks for the rescue.” Derek said with a small smile when they were out of earshot of Kate.

“Always.” Stiles said, his fingers brushing against Derek’s, giving them a gentle squeeze. __

Derek hadn’t meant to stick close to Stiles’ side for the rest of the trip, but he couldn’t help himself. It was like he had fallen so hard it Stiles’ orbit, his gravity, that getting out was near impossible. His only saving grace was that Cora was right there too. It was easily one of the best family outings they’d had in a long while and his father had even shook Stiles’ hand once they had returned, telling him he was an excellent guide. That, more than anything, gave Derek hope. Maybe, just maybe they could make it after all.

“Stiles, please join us for dinner.” Talia said from the barn door as the others headed back to the mansion.

“Thanks, but I’m not super hungry,” Stiles said with a smile that didn’t fully reach his eyes, “I’ll probably just clean up and head home. I’m pretty exhausted.”

Derek watched as his mother’s expression turned a little sad, but she nodded her head. “At least stop by the kitchen and grab some of my maple cookies to take home to you and your father.”

“Talia,” Stiles said as he dramatically grasped his chest, “you truly know a way to a man’s heart.”

She moved forward, patting his cheek fondly. Derek waited until she was gone to move into Stiles’ space, hooking his fingers into Stiles’ belt loops to pull him closer.

“You sure you don’t want to stay for dinner?” he asked, knowing Stiles wouldn’t change his mind, but hoping anyway.

“I think I’ve had enough of Kate and Gerard to last a lifetime.” Stiles hummed as he leaned into Derek, wrapping his arms around Derek’s waist.

Derek chuckled. “I know the feeling.”

“Are you going to stay again tonight?” Stiles asked with a small grin, waggling his eyebrows.

“Yes.” Derek replied immediately. He was lost in Stiles’ gravity after all.

“Then I will see you tonight.” Stiles leaned forward, pressing his lips against Derek’s sweetly.

Derek wanted nothing more than to deepen the kiss, but he knew he was being expected for dinner soon. He felt in good spirits all throughout dinner, talking with Peter and Cora to avoid conversing with Kate, who was surprisingly very quiet. The one good thing about Gerard being around meant his father’s attention was kept away from himself and Cora, which allowed for a more relaxing atmosphere. After dinner they all retired to the sitting room where they were served coffee, tea, and cookies. Derek knew he just needed to get through a few more hours before he was free for the evening. He watched his uncle and Chris Argent leave to smoke cigars on the porch, wishing he could follow, but knew they would want privacy. He roped Cora into a game of chess to pass the time, when he felt his heart drop into his stomach.

“Stiles, isn’t it?” He heard Gerard say, making his head snap up from the game.

Stiles was standing in the archway, looking like he was ready to head out for the evening, but he slowly turned so he was facing the group in the sitting room. He watched as Stiles gave them a polite smile.

“Yes, sir.” He said with a small nod of his head.

“Excellent job on the trails today,” Gerard noted as he leaned back in his seat, looking a little too pleased as he kept his hungry eyes on Stiles. “You’re a natural.”

“Thank you.” Stiles replied.

“Come, join us for a while,” Gerard indicated towards one of the open chairs next to Kate, “I want to have a chat.”

“I really must be going-” Stiles began

“Nonsense.” Gerard said with a wave of his hand. “It will only be a few minutes, Michael, you don’t mind?”

Stiles' eyes darted to Derek for a second and he could see a slight tremor in Stiles’ lips before he forced them back into a smile.

“Not at all.” Michael said in such a way that Stiles wouldn’t be able to refuse.

Derek watched as Stiles let out a small breath, shoulders tensing before he moved to the chair Gerard had offered him. Derek could feel his heart beginning to pound as Stiles took his seat. It was like a lamb being led to the slaughter and Derek just  _ knew _ that something bad was about to happen, but he didn’t know how to stop it. The question started out simple enough, just asking Stiles about school and his work here on the ranch. Derek felt like he was holding his breath, waiting for the first blow to land. It wasn’t until he caught Kate throwing him an evil smirk did he begin to feel the panic settling in.

“Stiles,” she said innocently, “your mother used to work here, right?”

“She did.” Stiles replied shortly. Derek could see that his leg was bouncing nervously, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“I thought you looked familiar.” Kate smiled like Stiles was an old friend she had just ran into for the first time in years. “I remember you running around here when you were younger.”

“Claudia’s son?” Michael asked as he gave Stiles a look of interest.

Stiles wasn’t the only tense person in the room. Cora was practically vibrating with nervous energy and Derek could even see his mother stiffen from where he was sitting. They could all feel it in the air and Derek felt like he was going to be sick.

“That’s right.” Stiles said carefully, like giving too much away would give his enemies the perfect weapon to use against him.

“A fine woman,” Gerard continued on like they were still having a pleasant conversation, “she did a great job helping to raise Laura and Derek.”

It sounded like a compliment, but Derek could just barely make out the undertones that would suggest otherwise. From the look on Stiles’ face, he could make them out too. He could see Stiles’ biting down on his tongue, jaw tightening.

“It is a shame, though,” Kate added before Stiles could speak, “that awful disease that took her. Cancer?”

“Frontotemporal Dementia.” Gerard answered as he swirled his whiskey around in his glass, the ice cubes  _ tinkling _ against the side. “Nasty thing that is.”

“Dad…” Cora cut in, but their father only held up a hand to silence her.

“She didn’t suffer long.” Stiles chewed out, his voice wavering. He knew they were all expecting him to say something, to answer, and Derek felt his heart breaking for Stiles. 

“That sounds awful.” Kate said with fake sympathy in her voice. “She must have forgotten so much in the end.”

Stiles was looking anywhere, but at Derek and he could see those amber eyes glossing over with tears as Stiles tried to blink them back. Stiles pressed his lips together, wringing his hands as he shifted in his seat. Derek hated this. He knew -  _ he knew _ \- Gerard would go in for the kill, but not like this.

“I kept up with your mother’s case,” Gerard said, leaning forward, “because I wanted to be sure that someone as hardworking as your mother would get the best treatment possible.”

Derek knew that was a lie. Gerard just wanted to have control. He wanted to know the ins and outs of the Hale household and all who worked there or were close to them.

“That’s very kind of you.” Stiles managed to get out and Derek could hear how hard he was working to control his anger. 

“Is it true that she forgot you were her son?” Gerard asked, no longer hiding behind false pretenses. “Is it true she accused you of killing her?”

The look of absolute anguish on Stiles’ face was enough to answer the question and now Derek knew. He knew what Stiles’ nightmares were about.

“Is it true she hurt you?” Kate added. “My how that must have been horrible for you.”

“I really think I should be going-” Stiles began as he stood up suddenly. Derek could tell he was trying so hard not to break down right there in front of all of them. He was halfway to the hallway when Gerard’s next question stopped him dead in his tracks.

“Is it true that it’s a genetic disease, Stiles?” Gerard asked and this time he wasn’t smiling.

Stiles slowly turned, his body trembling, chest heaving slightly. Derek wanted to take Stiles in his arms, to save him from the monsters that were coming for his throat. But he was frozen in his seat, eyes wide as he looked at Stiles like he was seeing him for the first time. Stiles had never said there was a chance he could get his mother’s disease. Stiles’ never really talked about Claudia’s sickness. They had all known she was sick, but Derek never really understood what it was. Now -  _ god now _ \- he could see just how horribly it had ripped Stiles apart. He could see just how terrified Stiles was of succumbing to the same fate. Derek had always been afraid of losing Stiles. 

But not in that way. Never in  _ that  _ way.

“Gerard,” Talia snapped, breaking the tension as she came to stand behind Stiles, placing a protective hand on his shoulder, “that is enough.”

“Of course,” Gerard replied, his smile immediately returning, “I was only inquiring since Stiles is such a loyal employee of the Hale family.”

The warm, sticky sensation of blood pooling in his palms made his gaze snap down to his hands. He watched the dark red drip onto the cream colored carpet for a moment, because looking at Stiles, seeing the devastation in those honey-whiskey eyes, was more than he could bear. But this was what Gerard was good at, right? Making Derek believe that Stiles wasn’t good enough, would never be good enough to be in  _ their world. _ Apparently he needed to make sure Stiles believed that too.

“I’ll walk you out, Stiles.” Talia said calmly, but Derek could see the storm in his mother’s eyes.

“Thanks.” Stiles whispered.

“Pleasure seeing you, Stiles,” Kate said as she waved her fingers, “send your father our best wishes.”

Stiles gave them a small nod of his head, trying to force a tight smile, but they could all see how pained it was. And like nothing had happened Gerard was asking his father to play a game of chess before they all retired to their rooms for the evening. Cora left shortly after and Derek swore he saw her wiping at her eyes. For Derek’s part, he just sat there, watching the blood from his palms drip, drip  _ drip  _ onto the carpet. He had seen the warning signs, knew it was coming, but still he did nothing to stop the giant wave from sweeping Stiles right out from under him.

* * *

[When](https://open.spotify.com/track/6Vigp41BietH0WoFZ52JI5?si=CKAPwwjgTdOWXkW4jLDSGg) he climbed through Stiles’ window he was surprised to see his boyfriend working at his desk even at such a late hour. He turned his tired eyes on Derek, offering a faint smile. Once again Derek was lost in the boy’s gravity as he moved towards Stiles, determined to make up for what had happened hours ago.

“Stiles…”

“It’s fine, Derek.” Stiles cut him off, moving just out of Derek’s reach.

Derek paused midstep, heart jumping into his throat. “It’s not okay. What Gerard and Kate said, it wasn’t,” he took a deep breath, trying to quell his rising anger, “it wasn’t fair. It was awful and cruel and you don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

“They’re right,” Stiles replied bitterly, arms crossing over his chest like he was building a wall between them,”they’re fucking right.”

“No,” Derek growled, “they’re not.”

Stiles shook his head, turning his back on Derek. “It is genetic. I could have it. I  _ can _ have it.”

Derek didn’t know what to say. The thought of Stiles slowly losing pieces of himself was something he couldn’t even bring himself to imagine. Not Stiles. Not beautiful and brilliant Stiles. Not his Stiles.

“What if I have it?” 

It was so quiet. So, so quiet that Derek wasn’t even sure he had heard it at all.  _ What if I have it? _ Derek wouldn’t - no he  _ couldn’t _ \- think about that. Losing Stiles would be like losing part of himself.

“What if you don’t?” Derek asked in return.

Stiles gave him a wry smile. “The odds have never really been in my favor.”

“Even if you do-” Derek paused, taking in a deep breath, “even if you do, you’re not going to lose me.” 

As he took one step forward Stiles took another step back.

“You don’t know what it did to her.” Stiles said, shaking his head, his eyes glossing over with tears. “She hurt me, Derek. I was just nine years old and she wanted to kill me because she thought I was killing her.”

Derek didn’t say anything as he watched Stiles scrub his face, holding back what Derek could only imagine were sobs.

“You’re going to lose me before I lose you.” Stiles finally said.

He didn’t have an answer to Stiles’ devastating words. That was just part of life and Derek was well aware of how unfair it could be, but he wasn’t going to be scared away. He knew, deep down, he’d love Stiles until he died and maybe even beyond then. Even in the dark void of nothing he would love Stiles. Even if they were on two different shores or living in two different worlds Derek would love Stiles because it was his only truth.

“And I’m going to love you too.” Derek whispered. He had never said the words out loud before, but there was no stopping them now.

“I know.” Stiles said, a tear dropping down his cheek before he moved forward, kissing Derek with a fever of a man who was afraid of losing everything. 

And Derek kissed him back like they had forever.

* * *

Stiles had thought after midterms he would find some sort of relief from the stress that was his life, but it felt less like a weight being lifted from his shoulders and more like the straw being removed before breaking the camel's back. Ever since Kate and Gerard corner him about his mother and her disease his nightmares had only gotten worse. Despite reassurance from Derek, from Scott, and from Melissa, Stiles just couldn’t get it out of his head that maybe, just maybe he had it too. If his panicking thoughts weren’t enough it seemed that Jennifer was redoubling her efforts into making the Hales sever ties with Stiles. He suspected that Gerard was doing the same behind the scenes.

He was seeing less of Derek as he was either busy with basketball or was forced into plans made by his father, influenced by Jennifer and Gerard. He’d been hanging onto the idea of him and Derek escaping to Berkeley together, but now it seemed like Jennifer would be right there with them. Keeping their relationship was already complicated enough, but the deeper Jennifer developed her relationship with Derek the messier things were going to be in the end. Derek had repeatedly told Stiles it would be worth it, losing his father’s business and the consequences that would follow, but it didn’t make Stiles feel any less terrible about it. 

Gerard and Jennifer could threaten Stiles all they wanted, but he was starting to get nervous that it wouldn’t be enough. Soon they would turn their eyes to the people in Stiles’ life. What if they took his father’s job away? What if they somehow got Melissa fired? Could they take things away from Scott or even Isaac and Kira? He was afraid of reaching a crossroads where he would have to choose between his friends -  _ his family  _ \- and Derek. 

He barely ate, he hardly slept, but he kept pushing through because there had to be an end to all of it, right? Unless his end was six feet underground with nothing, but a cement slab and a vase of white lilies to mark his final resting place.

“Can you believe Jennifer is already campaigning for prom queen?” Kira asked as she wrinkled her nose, passing a poster in the hallway with a picture of Jennifer advertising to be nominated for prom court.

“I’m more concerned with her outfit of choice in this photo than anything else.” Isaac replied haughtily as he gave the poster a look of disdain.

Scott snorted a laugh as Kira giggled. Stiles was only half listening to his friends as he looked over his most recent test from Harris. He frowned, wondering if it would be worth it to fight for the points Harris had unfairly taken away. He had a feeling it would only land him in detention and he already had a pounding headache for the day.

“Poor Derek is going to have to pose next to her when she forces him to run as prom king.” Kira added with a shake of her head. 

“We’ll have to make sure he doesn’t win.” Isaac said as they continued down the hall, heading towards lunch. “I’m pretty sure Jennifer almost expects a proposal when they get crowned together.” 

Stiles stopped dead in his tracks, turning sharply to face Isaac. “What?”

“You haven’t heard the rumors no doubt started by Jennifer herself?” Kira asked.

“Who proposes to someone in high school?” Scott asked in horror.

“People on  _ Sixteen and Pregnant _ .” Isaac teased as he slung his arm around Scott’s waist. “Don’t worry, babe, can’t get me pregnant.”

“Thank god for that.” Stiles snipped sarcastically, but only to cover the absolute war drum that was his heart. 

Michael wouldn’t make Derek propose to Jennifer at prom. It was too early, they were too young. They weren’t even really dating. Jennifer was just making things up to try and stir the gossip in school. To get under Stiles’ skin because the closer she was to Derek the harder she could push Stiles out. When it came down to it Stiles knew who would win that battle. He suddenly needed to see Derek, hoping he had a few minutes to spare.

_ S: Usual spot? Just for a minute or two? _

He didn’t know why he felt like he suddenly couldn’t breathe, like the walls of the school were closing in on him. When he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket he could barely read Derek’s response because suddenly there were spots in front of his eyes and the world felt like it was spinning.

“Stiles?” He swore he heard Scott say. “Stiles!”

He wasn’t sure if he hit the ground or if warm arms had wrapped around him, taking the brunt of his fall. Either way Stiles’ world had just gone black.

* * *

The faded blue powder wallpaper was the first thing to greet him as he slowly blinked his eyes open. Followed by the sound of a beeping heart monitor and the nauseating smell of bleach and sanitizer that nearly made him vomit. It was the details from his nightmares, but Stiles knew, this time, he wasn’t in a nightmare. He wasn’t facing down his mother lying in a hospital bed, her face melting away into a monster with an unhinged jaw and a hunger to kill. This time he was the one waking up with tubes in his arms and slightly too itchy sheets pulled up to his neck.

This time the monster had finally gotten him and there was no waking up.

“Stiles, thank god.” His father said, moving forward from the door, pressing a kiss to his son’s forehead. “You’ve got to stop scaring me like this, kid.”

“Sorry.” Stiles mumbled as he pulled his arms free of the blankets, winching slightly as the IV in his arm pinched at his skin. He felt so unbelievably tired, but he was shocked to see the sun setting just behind the half closed blinds in his room. “How long have I been out?” He asked, slightly panicked as he looked around for a clock.

“A few hours.” His dad said, taking the seat next to his son. “The doctor said you over exhausted yourself and your body needed the rest so they gave you something to help you sleep.”

“Dad,” Stiles said as he made his way out of the bed, “I’m  _ fine _ .”

His father firmly pushed him back down, sending Stiles a glare that dared him to try and leave the bed again. He could see the lines of worry in his father’s face, the fear lingering in his eyes as he tried to be brave. “Stiles, you’re not fine. You passed out in the middle of the school hallway.”

“I - it’s not - it’s just stress!” Stiles’ voice cracked. “It had to be it can’t be anything else.”

Before his father could respond there was a soft knock on the door before the doctor stepped inside, followed by Melissa who was dressed in her scrubs, her face full of concern. 

“Hi Stiles,” Dr. Sharpe said with a kind smile, “how are you feeling?”

“Better.” Stiles lied immediately. 

His father snorted softly. “I’ve heard you lie better than that, son.”

He just glared at his father, wanting to tell him, tell all of them that he was perfectly fine. He had to be. He just had to be. It was too soon. Too soon. He wasn’t ready for it -  _ for her _ \- to take him yet.

“I’m going to ask you a few questions if that’s alright.” Dr. Sharpe continued, her voice gentle and reassuring.

Stiles wished Derek was there or even Scott. He needed his lighthouse. His anchor. He swallowed the lump in his throat, nodding his head. “Yeah, sure.”

“How many hours of sleep do you get a night?” She asked, her eyes flicking up from the clipboard to Stiles’ face.

Stiles cleared his throat, not looking at any of them. He thought about lying, but knew it wouldn’t do him any good. “Uh three to four hours.”

He heard Melissa gasp and his father inhale sharply, but he only dared to lock eyes with Dr. Sharpe.

“How many meals do you eat?” She continued down her list.

“Um one.” He murmured. “Sometimes I eat a little at lunch too.”

He only ate when Scott forced him to and even then it was a sandwich at best. The only reason he really ate dinner was because it was something he and his father did together. Over the past few months he had just ignored his rumbling stomach if he was too busy doing something. Now he had just grown used to not eating at all, barely having an appetite because he was too busy worrying about everything else.

“Stiles…” His father’s voice sounded pain and disappointed, like he had failed his son.

“How has your memory been, both short and long term?” She asked.

And now -  _ now _ \- they were swimming in dangerous waters.

“I, uh,” he could hear the uptick in the heart monitor, “my long term is fine. Sometimes I forget things here and there,” he looked up at his father and Melissa now, “but that’s normal, people forget things all the time.”

He had been worried about having his mother’s disease for so long, admitting it out loud in his weaker moments, but now that he was facing down the barrel of the gun he couldn’t bring himself to believe it anymore. He couldn’t have it. He just couldn’t. He knew that dying was the easy part, it was the people who were left behind that actually suffered in the end. He didn’t want to leave his dad who had already lost so much. He didn’t want to leave Melissa and Scott, the family that was almost completely his. He didn’t want to leave Isaac and Kira. He didn’t want to leave Derek. Not yet. Not like this.

Dr. Sharpe asked him a few more questions, which did not improve his confidence at all. “We’re going to schedule you for an MRI tomorrow, Stiles, just to test for some things.”

She didn’t need to explain more. Stiles knew exactly what they were looking for. At least now, without a doubt, he would know if it had come for him.

“Until then we will keep you overnight for observation.” Dr. Sharpe said, giving Stiles a small squeeze on the shoulder.

She left the room and Stiles had a moment to catch his father and Melissa sharing a knowing look with each other. The fear and the deep sorrow in both of their faces made him feel sick and he quickly looked away. He could hear the door opening again and figured Melissa was leaving until he felt himself being jostled by another body jumping on the bed next to him. He barely had time to react as strong arms gripped him tightly, pulling him into a hug.

“Dude I was so worried!” Scott said as he nuzzled against Stiles’ neck, his voice cracking with relief. 

Stiles felt tears welding in his eyes again as he held onto his best friend. “Sorry, Scotty, didn’t mean to scare you. Are Isaac and Kira here?”

Scott pulled back slightly and Stiles could see him hastily wiping at his own eyes. “No, I’m only allowed to visit right now because of mom, but they wanted to see you. Kira burst into tears when the ambulance took you away and Isaac hasn’t spoken a word since.”

“Isaac not talking?” Stiles teased, still holding onto Scott, still gripping him tightly, “I think that’s a sign of the apocalypse.”

Scott laughed before pulling Stiles into another hug. “Mom says I can skip school tomorrow and come be with you while they run tests.”

Stiles didn’t say anything as he swayed in Scott’s embrace, hoping he could convey how he felt in the embrace. Maybe Scott understood because that’s just who he was. When they broke apart Scott settled down next to Stiles, putting the television on for a little while. His father had run out to get them some food and they sat, the four of them eating dinner, and watching the tiny hospital television until it was time for Scott to head home. Having his family there was the only thing keeping him from spiralling into a full on panic attack.

“I’m going to run Scott home and then stop at the house and pick up a few things to stay over,” his dad said with a look that showed he’d rather not leave at all, “Melissa is on shift tonight so if you need anything while I’m gone she’ll be here.”

“Thanks, dad.” Stiles said, trying to keep his voice calm. He was terrified of being alone with his thoughts. Terrified of falling asleep and slipping into the nightmare. He was terrified of not waking up this time around.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Scott said with a small wave as he followed Stiles’ father out the door.

“See ya.” Stiles waved back, letting his hand fall back against his lap once he was alone.

He sighed, leaning his head back against the pillow. Even with the television on in the background the room felt too quiet, too small. He knew if he asked they would probably give him something to put him into a dreamless sleep. He already felt exhausted despite having been unconscious for most of the day. He grabbed his phone from the night stand, running his finger over the screen from where Derek’s last text message had been sent.

_ D: I wish I could be there with you _

That was over an hour ago, but he knew Derek had been severely overscheduled for the day. Just like he had been the last few weeks. He wouldn’t be free until closer to ten or eleven and by then Stiles may already be fast asleep. He could only imagine the rumors flying around the school now. He’d pass out in the middle of the hallway afterall. He wondered if the rest of the school would know. Would they whisper behind his back as they passed in the hallway?

_ “That’s Stiles.” _

_ “I hear he has the same thing that killed his mom.” _

_ “Do you think he’s going to attack us like she attacked him?” _

_ “How long do you think he has left to live?” _

He could already picture Jennifer’s smirk, burning a hole through his chest with her ice blue eyes. He could hear Gerard hissing into Derek’s ear. They would both say the same thing. 

_ This is why you could never be with someone like Stiles _ .

Stiles rolled over onto his side, burying his face into the pillow before he opened his mouth and screamed.

* * *

_ Bang. Bang. BANG! _

_ He was sobbing now, his tears drowning out his own screams. Why couldn’t they hear him? Why couldn’t anyone hear him? She was right there, she was right fucking there and he was trapped. _

_ “Stiles, sweetie, it’s time.” _

_ “No!” He argued back as he felt her cold, ash stricken arms grab hold of him. “I won’t! I WON’T!” _

_ “You don’t have a choice.” This time her voice wasn’t a sweet purr. It was a deadly snarl and Stiles could feel her teeth sinking into his neck. “You will be coming with me.” _

[Stiles](https://open.spotify.com/track/059NVOghDOwrfO304aKYYj?si=WyieJhghT4yrR36q8i8skA) felt fingers lacing in his own, a steady grip bringing him back down to reality. He could feel the dampness on his cheeks, the bitter taste of salt overwhelming him. He hadn’t been screaming or thrashing like he normally did. But he could feel the sobs in his chest, his free hand scrunching the sheets of the bed. 

“Hey,” there were lips against his skin, brushing over the back of his hand gently, “I’m here.”

Stiles blinked his eyes open, the desperate need to cry and sob and sceam hit him again as Derek came into view.

“Derek?” He asked groggily. “Are you a dream?”

Derek smiled. “No, I’m really here.”

“How?” Stiles asked as he shifted closer, reaching out to trace the stubble on Derek’s cheeks.

“I uh,” he began to blush, “may have bribed the front desk nurse to let me back here for an hour or two.”

“You bribed someone for me?” Stiles asked with a mix of being impressed and amused.

“I was worried.” Derek murmured, kissing Stiles’ hand again. “I wanted to see you.”

“I’m fine.” Stiles replied automatically.

“It’s okay to not be fine, Stiles.” Derek said, his grey-green eyes so soft, so full of concern.

“I have an MRI tomorrow.” It came out a little bit broken, a little bit desperate.

Derek squeezed his hand. “You’re not going anywhere, I promise you that.”

“Promises like that are destined to be broken.” Stiles said with a wry smile. “I’ve seen that film before and I didn’t like the ending.”

Derek closed his eyes for a moment, laying his head down on the bed, sighing deeply. Stiles hesitantly ran his fingers through Derek’s hair wishing it were the day after tomorrow. The sooner he knew the better he could brace himself for the newest  _ after _ .

_ Before Stiles was diagnosed with Frontotemporal Dementia and after _ .

“Then I’m not going anywhere.” Derek said as he pressed forward, kissing Stiles like it was the most important thing in the world. He leaned his forehead against Stiles’, their noses brushing. “I’m not going anywhere.”

* * *

Stiles sat at the end of the MRI machine, wringing his hands as he tried to focus on keeping his breaths even. Scott was right next to him, a calming presence that Stiles was positive was the only reason he wasn’t having a full blown panic attack. He could see Melissa and his father talking with the doctor in the doorway, but he couldn’t hear what they were saying. He could only hear the ticking of the clock hanging on the wall and the blood roaring in his ears.

_ Tick. Tick. Tick. _

Maybe it was counting down the seconds to his inevitable end. Maybe it was mocking him, dragging along to keep him as far away from the truth as possible. Maybe it was just a clock.

_ Tick. Tick. Tick. _

“You know we’ll be right out there.” Scott said with a jerk of his thumb. Stiles was usually the talker, filling the silence with nonsense and random facts, but this time Scott couldn’t stop from rambling. Maybe because Stiles just didn’t have anything left to say.

“Yeah,” Stiles replied with a short nod of his head, “I know.”

So Scott continued to talk because he knew Stiles needed it. He needed the blood pumping in his ears, his heart pounding out of his chest, and the  _ tick _ of that stupid fucking clock to be drowned out by something,  _ anything _ . So Scott talked. And talked. And talked. When he noticed Stiles beginning to shake he grabbed his hand and talked some more. When he noticed the tears in Stiles eyes he pulled his best friend in a tight embrace and continued to talk. He talked until the doctor called Scott over the speaker.

“Scott, we’re ready to begin if you’d like to step back here, please.”

Stiles looked up at Scott, not ready to let him go, but Scott just gave him a smile. 

“Hey,” he said in that hopeful, happy-go-lucky attitude that only Scott McCall could possess, “you’re going to be…”

“Fine.” Derek grinded out for what felt like the millionth time today. “I’m fine.”

Lydia and Erica gave him matching unimpressed looks, like they didn’t, for a second, believe him. Which, really, he couldn’t blame them. He’d been short and irritated all throughout the day, snapping at anyone who asked him one too many questions. It was one of those rare occasions his friends could easily see through the lie, but only because he was making it so painfully obvious. He couldn’t help himself. Stiles was getting his MRI right now and he couldn’t fucking be there to support him. He couldn’t be there, but Scott McCall was. He knew it was awful, to be jealous, because Scott was Stiles’ best friend. Of course he could be there, it made sense.

“Well,” Erica said with a pop of her gum, “when you’re done being not fine we’ll be out in the courtyard eating lunch.”

Derek heaved a heavy sigh, leaning against his locker, watching his friends head down the hall, joining the rest of the crowd to have lunch outside. It was a beautiful day, one of the first real spring days in Beacon Hills. Flowers were blooming and trees were budding with bright greens. The preserve had been buzzing with life that morning and Derek fucking hated it. It seemed unfair that the day Stiles’ life could change forever -  _ again _ \- was just as bright and beautiful as it was the last time. 

Derek wasn’t just jealous of not being by Stiles’ side during this time, he was also scared. Scared of losing Stiles. Scared of Stiles losing him. Forgetting him. Forgetting everything that they were. He was so fucking scared that he nearly broke down on his drive home from the hospital. He had to pull over and let himself breathe. He said he wouldn’t leave Stiles, no matter what and he meant it, but living in the  _ after _ that is Stiles Stilinski was something Derek didn’t know how to do. 

_ Falling into the darkness after losing the person you love most in the world? White lilies. _

When Derek stepped outside he could feel the warm rays of sun, kissing his cheeks as a slight breeze ruffled his hair. He could see his friends across the courtyard, but his feet veered him a little to the right and before he knew it he was standing just in front of Isaac and Kira. Their tiny group looked even tinier without Scott and Stiles. They both looked as miserable and scared as Derek felt, their food barely touched.

“Hey,” Derek said as she shifted on his feet, “mind if I join you?”

Isaac gave him a skeptical glance, but Kira smiled. “Worried about Stiles too?”

There was no point in denying it. They were friends and Stiles’ friends knew that much. It was safe. Even if it wasn’t Derek would sit anyway because that’s where he felt like he was meant to be. He just nodded his head and Kira shifted to make room for him on the bench.

“That obvious, huh?” He asked awkwardly because he had never been alone with just Kira and Isaac before. 

“Only a little.” Kira teased as she broke a small piece of chocolate off, handing it to Derek. 

“Thanks.” He murmured. When he put it in his mouth he nearly laughed, the saltiness of crushed potato chips a surprising twist. “What is this?”

“Stiles’ favorite candy.” Kira said as she took a bit for herself, chewing on it thoughtfully. “He swears by the salty sweet combo.”

“Believe us,” Isaac said as he regretfully put a piece in his mouth, “we know Stiles has better taste than this. I think he just likes to torture us.”

They chatted quietly for a few moments, mostly Derek listening to Isaac and Kira. He could hear the nervousness in their voices, their eyes darting down to their phones every few seconds. Half way through Kira telling some story about her and Cora’s trip to a coffee shop - Derek noted with great interest - both of their phones beeped. Isaac was quicker, snatching his up. Derek could see his eyes moving over the screen, lips parted as he read the text message.

“It’s Scott,” Isaac said, “he said they’re just about to get…”

“...started you will hear a loud noise,” the doctor explained over the speaker, “but don’t worry, it just means the machine is doing its job.”

Stiles wondered if he bolted from the room if they would catch him and tie him down until they got the results. He was thinking about it. Just running from the room and never looking back. He was already fidgeting, unable to truly get comfortable before they shoved him inside for the next thirty minutes. He’d already been told several times he would need to hold still, but he was Stiles Stilinski. Holding still was not in his vocabulary.

“Okay, Stiles,” the doctor spoke again, her voice calm and collected, like she knew what he was thinking, “I’m going to turn it on and get you inside.”

He felt himself slowly moving backwards and now he had to use all of his willpower not to have an absolute melt down. He imagined his mother laying just like this, hands folded over her stomach, jaw trembling, breaths shuddering as she tried to steady herself. He wondered what she was thinking all those years ago. Was she worried about leaving her husband and only son behind? Was she hopeful that it was something they could fix? Did she, even just for a moment, consider that maybe one day her child would be in the same exact position, awaiting a fate he had no control over?

_ “You have Frontotemporal Dementia , Little Mischief.” Claudia said with a sad smile as she ran her hand over his forehead. “You need rest and your mother’s famous homemade chicken soup.” _

But that wasn’t right. It couldn’t be. The memory was a little fuzzy and Stiles shook his head, despite being told not to move.

_ “You have the flu, Little Mischief.” Claudia said with a sad smile as she ran her hand over his forehead. “You need rest and your mother’s famous homemade chicken soup.” _

That wasn’t right either. He’d already had the flu. 

_ Claudia was frowning now, her hand still against his forehead. “Well, then what is it, Little Mischief?” _

“I don’t know.” He spoke out loud as he stared up at the dull, white plastic, darkened by shadows. Stiles wasn’t claustrophobic by any means, but right now he felt like it resembled a coffin more than anything else. He tried to fight the tears as he squeezed his eyes closed, but they escaped anyway. “I don’t know.”

* * *

Waiting was always the worst part. Waiting felt like you were walking over a thin rope, suspended above a terrible sea that threatened to swallow you whole if you made a single wrong move. Waiting was like watching a line of powder catch a blaze, moving towards the explosion and wondering if someone would stop it before it reached ultimate destruction. Waiting was pretending to act like everything was normal even though you knew that things may never be normal again. 

So they waited, pretending like Stiles was still Stiles. Like his life didn’t depend on a picture. Melissa had picked up food and although Stiles barely felt like eating he forced down the pasta anyway because three pairs of eyes were on him, knowing what it meant if he didn’t eat. He wasn’t used to eating so much. He’d grown accustomed to his one meal a day, despite knowing it wasn’t good for his growing body. He knew he’d have eyes watching his meals for a while and that made his cheeks burn in shame. It felt like he was a child again. After they ate they waited some more. Scott had managed to bring in a game console, the best distraction from Stiles’ impending doom. 

It was well into the day, heading into the evening when the doctor finally came in. Upon seeing her face Stiles felt like he was going to throw up. This was it. This was fucking it. He could feel her breath, the sharpness of her teeth tracing along his neck. He could smell the ash and the decay. He could see her blackened fingers wrapping around his arm, leaving little bruises in their wake. She was here. She had finally gotten exactly what she wanted.

“We got your results back, Stiles.” Dr. Sharpe said kindly as she pulled up to the front of his bed. His father was next to him, gripping his arm, Melissa had a hand on his shoulder, and Scott was squeezing his hand. They were all holding their breath. “Good news is that you do not have Frontotemporal Dementia, nor are you showing any signs of developing it. Your brain is perfectly healthy.”

There was a collective sigh of relief and Stiles felt three pairs of arms around him, but he was still looking at the Doctor, like he didn’t believe her words. He didn’t have Frontotemporal Dementia. He didn’t have Frontotemporal Dementia. 

_ He didn’t fucking have Frontotemporal Dementia. _

And just like that the monster let him go.

“I don’t have-”” he started, but he couldn’t say the words. He cut off into a sob and he was pretty sure everyone else around him was crying too because he wasn’t going to die or slowly lose himself. He wasn’t going to make his friends and family suffer by watching him slip away. He was going to be just fine. His relief suddenly melted as he remembered he had still ended up here. If he didn’t have  _ that _ then what was wrong with him?

As if reading his mind the Doctor spoke, “Stress.”

“Stress?” His father repeated, like he was in shock that the answer was so simple.

Dr. Sharpe nodded her head. “Sometimes our stress and anxiety can manifest into physical symptoms. Stiles stopped eating, he wasn’t sleeping, and his body began to shut down. With the fear of getting his mother’s disease he created this placebo effect that mirrored what Claudia went through years ago.”

Stress. All of this over stress? Stiles released a shuddering breath. He couldn’t believe this had been because of his stress and anxiety. He stopped taking care of himself and his body had fought back. He had put his family and friends through this terrible ordeal all because he couldn’t fucking take care of himself.

“Stiles,” his father was looking at him now, forehead wrinkled, mouth set in a deep frown, eyes full of concern, “what’s going on? What’s been stressing you out, son?”

Stiles kept his gaze locked with his dad, but he bit down on his tongue before he could let any of the words spill out. It had all been sitting on his chest, pushing him deeper and deeper into the abyss. Everything. He wanted to scream it.  _ Everything _ . Paying for college. Harris failing him every chance he got. The medical bills that never seemed to end. Lying to them about Derek. Having to pretend like the person who meant the most to him was nothing more than a friend. Watching Derek get pushed around by is father, by Gerard, by Jennifer. Knowing it would be his fault if Derek lost everything. Knowing that Berkeley was no longer their safe space. Jennifer and Gerad setting their sights on him, hell bent on destroying his relationship with the Hales. Knowing that Derek was going to have to make a choice - soon or later - that could very well break Stiles’ heart. And finally, terrified that he had somehow succumbed to his mother’s disease. 

He was drowning.

He was drowning with no one to save him.

“I don’t know.” He lied, his voice cracking. 

“We can prescribe some anxiety medication, “ Dr. Sharpe explained, “and recommend a therapist. Besides that you just need to get plenty of rest and be sure you’re eating. If you’d like we can discharge you tonight, but you’ll want to stay home for the rest of the week to give yourself some time to recover.”

Stiles wasn’t sure how much help a therapist could be if he couldn’t talk about half the things bothering him, but one look from his father told him he wasn’t going to have a choice in that matter.

“Yeah,” Stiles whispered, feeling the desperate itch, the burning desire to leave as soon as possible, “I’d like to go home.” 

“We’ll get the discharge papers started.” Melissa said as she gave Noah a small smile.

Noah nodded his head before leaning down and kissing Stiles on the forehead. Stiles knew this conversation was far from over, but he knew his dad was just relieved he wouldn’t be losing his son any time soon. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’m going to call Kira and Isaac,” Scott said with a huge grin on his face before pulling Stiles into another hug, “I knew you were going to be okay.”

“Glad I have you to keep me from losing my way, Scotty.” Stiles said seriously as he patted his best friend’s back a few times.

Scott disappeared behind the door, following his mom and Noah so that Stiles was left alone with Dr. Sharpe. She waited until the door was closed before she moved forward, her face becoming a little more serious.

“Stiles,” she said and he was strangely reminded of his mother, “I know stress and anxiety can seem like a simple diagnosis to most people, but mental health is very important.”

“I know.” Stiles said with a small nod of his head.

“If you’re not careful the consequences can be much worse the next time.” She continued, voice firm.

Stiles swallowed the lump in his throat. He may not have what killed his mother, but he  _ had been  _ slowly killing himself without even really knowing it. “I understand.”

Dr. Sharpe gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “Whatever is weighing you down, you need to let it go.” 

Stiles didn’t respond, because he had no idea what to fucking say. Dr. Sharpe took that as her cue to leave, saying something about sending a prescription of anxiety medication to the pharmacy for him. When he was alone he laid back against the bed, closing his eyes.

_ “It looks like you have a secret, Little Mischief.” Claudia said with a sad smile as she ran her hand over his forehead. “You need to let it go before it kills you.” _

* * *

It was the feel of warmth pressed against his side, the quiet, steady breaths that signified sleep, the faint smell of cinnamon and boy that was so very much  _ Stiles _ that made Derek smile faintly in the darkened bedroom. The only light source was from Stiles’ laptop, the scene of some actor Derek forgot the name of punching zombies while a crazy explosion happened in the background. Stiles had fallen asleep just thirty minutes into the movie, but Derek didn’t really care. He was just happy to be lying next to Stiles, knowing he wasn’t going to slowly lose himself to that terrible disease. It wasn’t lost on him that Stiles was far from  _ okay,  _ though. 

Stiles had stopped eating, he hadn’t been sleeping, and he had been pushing himself to the breaking point and Derek hadn’t done anything to help him. He had noticed the signs. Could see Stiles growing a little bit thinner, his circles under his eyes a little darker, but he hadn’t intervened. Whenever he asked, Stiles would just blame it on the stress of school, but Derek knew there was so much more. He knew how Gerard and Jennifer had been acting. He knew they were trying to push Stiles out of his and Cora’s life, taking low blows and near fatal shots. He knew it was eventually going to break Stiles and yet he had done nothing.

_ “It’s not your fault,” Stiles said tiredly as he pulled on Derek’s hoodie before crawling into bed next to him, collapsing against Derek’s chest, “I kept it all inside.” _

_ “Maybe if I wasn’t so afraid of my father and actually stood up for you then-” Derek growled, angry at himself for just standing on the sidelines. _

_ Stiles cupped Derek’s face, giving him a half smile as he brushed his thumbs over Derek’s cheeks. “The doctor strictly said I am on a no stress diet, so no more stress tonight.” _

_ Derek sighed heavily, wrapping his arm around Stiles waist as the latter turned over to start the movie. _

Derek hadn’t lost Stiles in  _ that  _ way, but if he didn’t do something soon then he would lose him all the same. 

* * *

The last person Stiles expected to walk through his bedroom door was Lydia Martin. Way back when he remembered having several dreams where Lydia had burst through his door, proclaiming she had broken up with Jackson because she had secretly been in love with Stiles this whole time. They would then make out and Stiles would wake up and realize that Lydia would probably never,  _ ever _ , be walking into his bedroom as long as he lived. Slowly, that dream faded, but Stiles felt like he had been thrust right back into his fifteen year old’s memory.

Lydia.

Lydia Martin.

Lydian Martin was in his bedroom.

Lydia Martin was in his bedroom and he sat there stupidly blinking at her, trying to determine if the anxiety medication was making him hallucinate or not. He rubbed his eyes a few times, expecting her to disappear, but when she didn’t, he cleared his throat.

“Uh, Lydia, hi.” He finally said.

He only got the classic, carefully crafted unimpressed stare only Lydia could perfect in such a way that made Stiles squirm a little in his chair. She really was the most terrifying person he had met, in the best way.

“Stiles,” she said as she pulled an envelope from her purse, laying it down on the desk, “why did you not inform me that Harris was cheating you.”

Stiles felt his jaw drop. Out of all the things she could have said that was the last one he was expecting. “Uhhh what?” His brain had been feeling a little fuzzy from all the sleep he had been getting the past few weeks, so maybe he hadn’t heard her correctly.

Instead of answering him Lydia grabbed the envelope, pulling a stack of graded papers from inside. Stiles recognized it as their latest midterm. Harris had given him an eighty-five, which, all things considered, was not bad to what he could have received. He’d barely been conscious throughout half of it, so he was surprised it wasn’t marked down even more. She then reached into her purse again, pulling out her own midterm. Stiles just raised an eyebrow at the  _ 100%  _ scrawled in red pen next to her name. Did she come to show off her own grade? Rub it in Stiles’s face? Or?

“Look at problem number six.” She instructed, thrusting both midterms into his hands.

“Uh, Lyds have you-”

“Just look at them.” She said again and Stiles could tell that she was  _ pissed _ .

Stiles hurriedly flipped to the correct question, nearly dropping both papers in his haste. When he was on the right page he carefully looked between his test and hers. His eyes narrowed slightly, darting between the papers a little slower. Huh. They had both done the exact same work and got the exact same answer. Except Harris had taken a half point away from Stiles’ with no explanation. He looked up at Lydia, understanding the fire burning in her eyes.

“Now go to question ten.” She said through tight, bright red lips.

He did. And then again with question sixteen and twenty-five and thirty-eight and about ten more questions. With every single one he and Lydia had the same work and the same answer. His handwriting may have been a little worse, but it was the same fucking work. And Harris was just a dick. He laid both tests on the table, heaving a heavy sigh.

“At least now I know for sure Harris was purposely taking points away from me.” Stiles said with a small shrug, like it wasn’t a big deal, because, at this point it wasn’t.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Lydia asked, arms crossed over her chest.

Stiles snorted a laugh. Lydia didn’t see, Derek couldn’t see because of who they were. They had never known what it was like to be at the bottom, where no one would ever believe you because someone was in a higher position of power. They hadn’t believed him about Theo. They hadn’t believed him about Jennifer. They wouldn’t believe him about Harris, Stiles knew that for sure. It was just the way it was. 

“Stiles, it’s not funny.” Lydia chided.

“Sorry,” Stiles said, clearing his throat again, “it’s just that Harris hates me. He doesn’t need a reason and it would be my word against his, so I’m not really in the winning corner here.”

Lydia’s face melted into a smirk, hands now placed on her hips as she flipped her hair over her shoulder. “Oh Stiles, didn’t you realize you had me there all along?”

Stiles cocked an eyebrow, “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” her smile was all teeth, like a predator, “when I went to collect your work for you I just happened to glance at your test and my curiosity got the better of me. When I realized that Harris was cheating you out of points I marched right back in and gave him a piece of my mind.”

Stiles’ jaw dropped for the second time that day. “You  _ what _ ?!”

“I told Harris very clearly that if he even  _ thinks _ of taking points away from you when all of your answers are correct,” her voice had that dangerous edge to it and Stiles half wondered if she had ever killed a man, “then I will personally make sure he will not be able to teach in the state of California ever again.”

Stiles opened and closed his mouth several times. Lydia Martin had threatened Harris for him. Now Stiles knew he truly was dreaming. He and Lydia had become somewhat close to being friends over the past year or two, but he never thought he’d be deserving of her fierce loyalty.

“I - uh, wow, thanks.” He managed to say, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “Seriously, it means a lot.”

Lydia gave him a genuine smile and Stiles could faintly remember why he had fallen so hard for her in the first place.

“You’re smart, Stiles and you work hard.” She explained. “And I’ll be damn if some asshole teacher is going to ruin that for you.”

“Gee, Lyds,” Stiles teased, “didn’t realize you cared so much.”

“You’re my friend,” Lydia said matter-of-factly, “and my competition.” She was grinning again, a feral one at that. “How can I be the best if my biggest competitor isn’t allowed to be at his best?”

“Well, when you put it that way.” He said with a yawn, stretching his arms over his head. The doctor had prescribed him with a low dose of sleep medication to help get his sleep schedule back on track. Recently he’d been passing out right after dinner and it was getting close to that time.

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” Lydia said as she grabbed her exam, stuffing it back in her purse. She started to leave, but stopped, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Thanks.” Stiles replied.

He had known his little episode in the hall and his absence from school had not gone unnoticed by the rest of the student body. Apparently he had been the talk of the school for three days straight. He wasn’t prepared for all the weird looks when he returned or the whispers behind his back. No one besides his friends knew why he was at the hospital or what was wrong, but that didn’t stop the gossip from spreading like wildfire. He was sure people were going to try and eye him until they figured out why he had collapsed in the middle of the day. It would pass, he knew it would, but he didn’t need the extra anxiety of having the whole school watching and waiting for him to pass out again. He particularly didn’t want to see Jennifer’s smug smile. 

_ See, you really are unworthy of the Hales _

He shook the thought away as he heard his door open, the click of Lydia’s heels pausing in the hallway. He looked up at her, perplexed at the mysterious expression on her face.

“I’m not the only one who was worried, you know.” Lydia said softly, like it was a secret. “Erica, Boyd, and even Jackson,” she chuckled at Stiles’ look of disbelief before her face grew serious again, “and Derek. Especially Derek.”

Stiles held his breath, terrified if he made a single fucking move he would give it all away. Lydia was very perceptive that way. She studied him for a moment before shaking her head.

“Have a good evening, Stiles.” She said with a small wave before disappearing down the hall.

Stiles didn’t move. He didn’t say goodbye because he was still afraid of what may follow if he did. He didn’t let out a single breath until he heard her drive away.

* * *

“At least people have finally stopped starring.” Stiles said with a sigh as he leaned against the brick wall, the breeze a welcomed change from the stiff air in the school.

“People were staring?” Derek asked as he tilted his head to the side, furrowing his brows.

“Uh, hello,” Stiles waved his hands dramatically, “I passed out in the middle of the school day, went to the hospital and didn’t return for a week. They’re probably expecting me to look like the walking dead or something.”

Derek chuckled as he wrapped his hands around Stiles’ waist, pulling him a little closer. It was just a few minutes before the bell would ring and Stiles would have to join his friends for lunch in the cafeteria. Normally they’d be able to sit outside, but the recent rain showers had made the courtyard muddy and flooded. There was a light drizzle of rain coming down, but he and Derek were sheltered under a small awning near the parking lot. Derek was leaving for a doctor’s appointment, which gave them a few extra minutes to see each other. 

Stiles was trying to get better. He was slowly conditioning himself to eat three full meals again and he was working his way to sleeping through the night, combating the insomnia. It had only been two weeks since his release from the hospital and a week since his return to school. He even went to his first therapy session, which, to Stiles, felt like a waste of time. Marin, his therapist, assured him that it was a safe space and they could talk about anything, but he couldn’t bring himself to mention Derek or the things surrounding their very complicated relationship. So he had settled for school and his anxiety about his father’s bills piling up. 

Recovery was a painful process, more so than he thought. It wasn’t just about eating breakfast and making himself go to bed at a decent time. It was trying to unlearn his bad habits and work through his fears. Despite getting the clean bill of health he still couldn’t fully grasp the idea that he was  _ okay _ in that way. His nightmares weren’t as frequent, but they were still there. He supposed he could bring that up with Marin next session, since he was avoiding all things Hale.

“I’m hoping to come back to work this weekend.” Stiles said in between a kiss.

Derek pulled back, his eyebrows furrowing again, but this time they were in concern instead of confusion. “Don’t you think it’s a little soon?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Working with the horses is actually relaxing, and gives me something to focus on`

“Stiles…” Derek groaned as he laid his head against Stiles shoulder, “don’t push yourself too hard already.”

“I’m not!” Stiles argued. He already had the same conversation with his dad. And Scott. And Melissa. He didn’t want to have it with Derek too. He wanted to feel normal, or well, as close he could feel to normal again. He liked working at the ranch. He missed going on rides with Cora and Peter. He missed taking Arlo out, especially now that it was nice. He just wanted to prove he hadn’t completely lost himself in his unknown circle down the drain. “Listen, I’m going to talk to Marin,” he hated referring to her as his therapist for some reason, “about it and see what she says. She is the professional afterall.”

“Why do I feel like I couldn’t stop you if I tried?” Derek asked with a grumpy frown.

“Because, Sourwolf,” Stiles grinned, “you’ve never been able to stop me before.”

“You’re infuriating.” Derek shook his head before he leaned down and captured Stiles’ lips in another kiss.

“And you’re going to be late.” Stiles replied as he pulled away. Derek leaned in again, like he wanted to chase Stiles’ tongue with his own.

“Fine.” Derek huffed before he swept Stiles in a hug. 

Stiles noticed Derek was holding on a bit tighter these past few weeks. Like Stiles would disappear if he didn’t. Derek knew the toll their secret relationship was taking on Stiles. He could read it in the worry lines of Derek’s face, see it swirling in those grey-green eyes when they departed from their secret rendezvous. There was no right answer. It was just so fucking complicated. Derek’s life was controlled in a way that paralyzed him from breaking free of the chains that had been built since before he was born. But now those chains were latching onto Stiles too, pulling him in the opposite direction, throwing him out to sea where he was left to sink to the deep, dark bottom all alone. The weight was crushing him. Killing him. But he couldn’t let it go.

“I’ll text you when I’m out of the appointment.” Derek said as he released Stiles, sweeping his bag over his shoulder.

Stiles waved his goodbye before turning and heading back into the school just in time for the first lunch bell. He easily spots his friends in the crowding room, which was buzzing with energy as talks of prom were overtaking almost every conversation.

“I swear if one more person comes up to me, asking for my prom queen vote,” Isaac snapped, sweeping the room with an irritated glare, “I am going to murder them.”

“Let’s hope Jennifer is next then.” Scott teased as he sunk his teeth into a bright, red apple.

Stiles laughed, shaking his head as he slowly ate his sandwich, mindful of Scott’s eyes darting over every few minutes to make sure he was eating. He knew that would fade eventually too. Scott was more subtle about it than his dad, who almost glared at him until his plate was clean.

“Didn’t we end up ditching half way through prom last year?” Kira asked.

“Yes,” Isaac chirped in, “the music was awful and the only entertainment was watching that girl fight in the hallway after someone spiked the punch.”

“Who knew Tracey had such a good right hook?” Stiles asked as he remembered the fight perfectly in his mind.

“It was the only time a junior won prom queen.” Kira added in. “Lydia always seems to be the exception to the rule.”

“Okay,” Stiles said with a laugh, “but I may have totally voted for her when Danny suggested it.”

“Me too.” Isaac, Kira, and Scott all replied in unison.

Stiles hadn’t felt this light in weeks. Sure, there were still things that were heavily weighing on him, and he still had his bad days, but right now, with his friends, he felt good. Like maybe there was some sort of light at the end of this tunnel. Their laughter was interrupted by a small clearing of a throat that immediately triggered Stiles’ fight or flight instincts. Jennifer was standing just in front of their table, a basket in her hand, her sickenly sweet smile plastered on her face.

“Can we help you?” Isaac asked in his most haughty voice.

“Just wanted to spread the good word about my bid for prom queen.” She said as she passed them a small box with a picture of her and Derek on the front. “And Derek as prom king of course, we truly make a royal couple.”

Stiles nearly resisted rolling his eyes. Nearly. Derek looked positively miserable in the picture and that was almost enough to send him in a fit of giggles. He could see Isaac and Scott biting their lips to keep from laughing as they closely examined the box.

“What’s inside?” Kira asked as she opened her box.

“Cherry macaroons.” She said with a pop of her lips. “Just a sweet treat to thank you all for voting for me.”

Stiles noticed her eyes lingered on him a little longer than everyone else before she turned and walked over to the next table, giving the same little speech she had just given them.

“I bet these are poisoned.” Isaac said as he held up the pink cookie, examining it carefully, like he could physically see the poison oozing out of the filling. 

“A free cookie is a free cookie.” Scott said as he shoved it into his mouth.

Isaac gave his boyfriend an unimpressed look causing Stiles and Kira to laugh. Stiles grabbed the cookie, wondering how much Jennifer’s father paid for her to have these things made just because she wanted to be prom queen. But, he thought dully, whatever Jennifer wanted she got. He brought the cookie to his lips, the sound of a horrified gasp and the feel of a hand painfully gripping his wrist making him cry out in pain.

“Ow, Scott!” Stiles shouted, “Scott you’re hurting me!”

Scott snatched the cookie out of his hand so quickly that it nearly crumbled. Stiles watched as Scott hastily took a bite, wondering what the fuck was wrong with his best friend.

“Dude,” he snapped, “if you wanted another one you should have asked your boyfriend for his.”

Scott ignored Stiles, sending a very pissed off look in Jennifer’s direction. Stiles’ eyes grew wide, he had never seen Scott look so angry before. He could practically feel Scott’s rage from across the table.

“Scott,” Isaac asked as he placed a hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder, “what’s wrong?”

“It’s strawberry.” Scott chewed out through gritted teeth. “The cookie is fucking strawberry.”

“Strawberry?” Isaac asked, not catching on at first, but suddenly his jaw was trembling as he shot Jennifer a death glare, Kira matching his expression.

Jennifer had said it was cherry, but Scott had fightfully disagreed. Kira and Isaac both took a bite of their cookies, noting they were both cherry. It was just Scott and Stiles’ cookies that were strawberry. Stiles who was almost deathly allergic to all things strawberry. And Scott who was always seen splitting his food with Stiles. If Scott hadn’t snatched the cookie out of his hand then Stiles would have been on, yet another, one way trip to the hospital. He wasn’t even sure if he had his epipen in his bag.

“Hey!” Scott shouted as he got to his feet, all eyes turning to him as he marched over to Jennifer.

“Scott,” Stiles tried to call after his best friend, knowing no good could come of this, “just leave it.”

“Stiles,” Scott growled, sharply turning half way between them and Jennifer, “this could have killed you if you ate it.”

Stiles snapped his mouth shut, knowing it was mostly true. He could have died if not given the proper dose of medicine in time. When he looked like he wasn’t going to argue Scott resumed his tirade, coming face to face with Jennifer, who was just batting her eyes innocently.

“What the hell is this?” He asked as he shoved the cookie under her nose.

“Cherry macaroons,” Jennifer sniffed like talking to Scott was suddenly beneath her, “like I said.”

“This is strawberry.” Scott seethed. “Mine was strawberry. Stiles’ was strawberry.”

“Please,” Jennifer said as she flipped her dark hair over her shoulder, “ask anyone here what they got and they will tell you it’s cherry. I’m sorry your primitive pallet can’t tell the difference.”

The room was dead silent as everyone’s eyes were on Scott and Jennifer standing off in the middle of the cafeteria. Jennifer was intimidating, but Scott looked down right infuriated. His fist were clenched at his sides and he had drawn himself to his fullest height, making him tower over her. If she thought her insult would be a blow to Scott’s ego then she was dead wrong.

“I’m sorry you think Stiles is such a threat to whatever little fantasy world you have going on in your head,” Scott sneered, “but I know what I tasted. This could have killed him.”

Now Jennifer looked angry. Her ice blues narrowed and her lips tugged back in a hideous frown. “How dare you-”

“What is going on here?” Harris asked as he stepped between them, like he expected Scott to start throwing punches or Jennifer to rip out hair.

“Jennifer gave Stiles a cookie that could have seriously hurt him because he’s allergic to the flavor.” Scott said immediately, not giving Jennifer any time to explain.

Harris turned his annoyed gaze on Stiles now, like all of this was somehow his fault. He sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Everyone go back to eating lunch. McCall, Miss Blake, and Stilinski you will follow me to the principal's office now.”

“Of course,” Jennifer said with a tight smile, “I want to get this all straightened out as soon as possible.”

She marched past Scott and Harris, people whispering in her wake. Stiles felt frozen in his seat, like he wasn’t sure that what he just saw was real. He had a bad feeling it was not going to swing in his favor. Scott came over, arms crossed over his chest, glaring after Jennifer as he waited for Stiles to follow them.

“I haven’t got all day, Stilinski.” Harris snapped.

Stiles clumsily got to his feet, stumbling into his best friend a little. He threw Kira and Isaac a weary glance, but both of them still looked royally pissed off. Stiles felt his heart dropping in his stomach as they filed out of the room. He had barely just stopped being the talk of the school and now they were all staring and whispering again. He was clearly doing a shit job of limiting the amount of stress and anxiety in his life.

“Don’t worry,” Scott said as he clapped Stiles on the shoulder, “I gave Harris the cookie. We have proof. She’s not going to get away with this.”

Stiles tried to give his best friend a smile, but somehow he didn’t believe that was true at all.

* * *

Stiles squirmed in his seat, trying not to let the small walls of this small room close in on him as they sat in silence. The principal hadn’t been able to get a hold of his dad or Scott’s mom, but Jennifer’s father was on his way. He knew Scott’s mom was probably dead asleep since she had worked the night shift and his father may have been busy with some Sheriff stuff. Stiles was starting to feel like they weren’t going to get a fair trial. That feeling immensely grew tenfold when Jennifer’s father walked in with Michael Hale and Gerard Argent in tow.

“Mr. Hale,” The principal said, standing up hastily to shake the famously well known Hale’s hand, “I didn’t realize you were going to be here.”

“I was having a meeting with Gerard and Nathan when you called,” Michael said as his eyes roamed over Scott and Stiles, “and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”

Stiles half hoped Michael wouldn’t recognize him as he sunk into his chair, but he knew it didn’t matter. Gerard had already zeroed in on Stiles, a predatory look overtaking his face and Stiles really felt like he was closing in for the kill now. He also knew Michael donated a lot of money to the school to make sure it had the best programs for his children to participate in. Just another person who was probably sitting in the back of Michael Hale’s pocket.

“Of course,” the principal said, giving the three older men a nervous smile, “we’re just waiting to hear back from Mr. McCall and Mr. Stilinski’s pare-”

“We really must be getting back to our meeting,” Michael cut in, adjusting the cuff of his sleeves, “I’m sure all the information can be relayed to their parents later.”

“I, well,” the principal began,”school policy states that-”

“Both of these boys are eighteen, aren’t they?” Gerard asked with a smile that was all teeth. “I am sure they can take responsibility for their actions.”

Stiles felt like if he sunk any lower in his chair he would be on the floor. Scott looked like he was in complete shock by what was happening, realization slowly dawning on his face at what was about to happen. Scott was always the hopeful one, but right now Stiles could see that hope draining from his baby browns.

“Yes, I supposed, well,” the principal sat back down, clearing his throat as he turned to Scott, “Mr. McCall would you like to start by explaining what happened.”

The loss of hope did not negate the anger in Scott as he immediately launched into his story. Maybe if he spoke vehemently enough, passionately enough, they would believe him. Stiles knew they never would. He knew how this tale was going to go.

“Even if they were strawberry,” Jennifer’s father interrupted Scott halfway through the story, “it’s not Jennifer’s job to police what people eat.”

“She knew he was allergic.” Scott fought back. “And she explicitly stated it was cherry. It’s like giving someone a peanut butter treat without asking if they’re allergic to nuts.”

“I had no idea Stiles was allergic to anything.” Jennifer said with a scoff.

“Yes, you did.” Scott snapped back. “The Halloween party at Lydia’s house. You were there when Stiles told everyone he was allergic.”

Jennifer faltered for a moment because Scott was right. Scott was fucking right. She had been there, she had heard it all loud and clear. She knew. She knew and she had deliberately given him something that could have killed him. 

“So I’m supposed to remember the entire school’s allergy problems?” She finally sneered after gathering herself. 

“Funny how only mine and Stiles’ were the strawberry ones.” Scott carried on, because he was determined not to lose. He was determined to get justice and do right by his best friend and Stiles had never loved him more for it, even when he knew it wouldn’t do any good.

“Mr. McCall,” Nathan cut in, a quiet anger to his tone, “can you prove that the cookie was strawberry and not cherry, because if not it’s just your word against my daughter’s.”

Scott had a triumphant smile on his face now, because they had the cookie. “Mr. Harris confiscated the cookie when he broke up our argument in the cafeteria. He has it.”

All eyes turned on Harris and Stiles felt like he was going to be sick. He knew. He fucking knew just by looking at Harris what the teacher was going to say. Because the man hated Stiles. He hated Stiles and Lydia had threatened him to not take points away from his homework and test for no reason. So now,  _ now _ , he could get his revenge because Stiles had been right all along. No one would believe him over Harris. Or Jennifer. Or Michael fucking Hale. 

“Mr. McCall must be mistaken,” Harris said and Stiles swore he could see him fighting off a smirk, “I don’t have such a thing in my possession.”

Stiles just looked down at his hands fidgeting in his lap. He could  _ feel _ Scott’s look of absolute devastation passing along his face. He couldn’t bring himself to meet Scott’s eyes because he knew he wouldn’t like what he saw. Harris had just gone and crushed any chance of them proving that Jennifer was out to get Stiles. He half expected Scott to fight it, to argue, to say that Kira and Isaac were right there, but nothing came out of Scott’s mouth. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Scott shaking, probably from anger or frustration or both. But he didn’t say a word because he was now realizing, just like Stiles had done when he watched Michael Hale stroll through the door, that they weren’t going to win this one.

“I have the cookies with me,” Jennifer said sweetly, because she knew too, “everyone can have a taste to know they’re cherry.”

Stiles didn’t look up as she passed the cookies around to everyone in the room save for him and Scott. He chewed on his bottom lip, the sharp taste of blood filling his mouth as everyone ate in silence. He could only hope now that maybe they could get away with a warning, or at the very least Scott wouldn’t be punished for doing what was right. Stiles highly doubted it though.

“Well,” Gerard said, “these are clearly cherry.”

“Yes,” the principal said, “well, I believe Mr.McCall owes Miss Blake and apology and then maybe we can move on from this misunder-”

“Are you saying that these two boys are going to get away with accusing my daughter of such a heinous crime without punishment?” Nathan snapped as he came and stood behind his daughter, glaring in Scott and Stiles’ direction.

“Well,” the principal faltered, knowing he didn’t have much ground to argue, “maybe some form of detention could be in order.”

“Detention is too light,” Gerard argued, “but expulsion seems too heavy. We don’t want to deprive these young men of their education now.”

Stiles inhaled sharply as his head snapped up. Expulsion. Stiles couldn’t be expelled. He would lose his scholarship and probably his acceptance into Berkeley. Not to mention he would never forgive himself for pulling Scott into the line of fire. Even the principal looked a little taken aback by the suggestion.

“Surely, no one got hurt.” The principal argued.

“I think taking away their prom privileges sounds about right.” Michael suggested with a smile. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“What!” Stiles said, speaking for the first time since he had been dragged into the room. Jennifer had tried to hurt  _ him _ and he and Scott were now suffering the consequences. “That’s not fair. Don’t take prom away from Scott, just punish me, it’s my fault.”

“Stiles-” Scott began, because the look he gave his best friend clearly stated he would not let Stiles take the blame.

“Mr. Stilinski,” The principal said in a voice that was clearly trying to keep Stiles from getting into more trouble, “I know this must be upsetting, but it appears to be a fair punishment for what you and Mr. McCall have accused Miss Blake of.” 

He could see the regret in the older man’s eyes and the fear too. He was scared of Michael Hale, scared of what he would do if he defended his students in the way he clearly wanted to. How could he blame the man for wanting to keep money rolling into the school to support top notch programs for its students. But it didn’t stop Stiles from wanting to scream and tear through the room from the complete  _ unfairness _ of it all, but he was tired. So fucking tired. He didn’t think he had the fight left in him.

“Well, now that that is settled,” Michael said as he started to depart from the room, “we really must be leaving.”

Stiles was the first to get up from his chair, not being able to take how quickly the walls were closing in on him. Scott was right on his heels. He could see Isaac and Kira waiting for them just out in the hallway, eyes filled with concern as they quickly got up from their seats seeing the look on Stiles’ and Scott’s faces. Cora was there too, nervously shifting by Kira’s side.

“What happened?” Kira asked as she reached for Stiles, gripping his arm gently. 

Isaac was cupping Scott’s face, brushing away a tear. “Scott, baby, what’s wrong?”

Stiles couldn’t look at any of them because he felt fucking sick. It was his fault. All his fault. Jennifer and Gerard wanted him out of Derek’s life so badly and now it was finally affecting those closest to him.

“They banned us from prom.” Scott’s shaky voice said.

“What?!” All three of them said in unison.

“How could they-” Cora began, clearly she had been filled in on what had happened, but stopped when she saw her father exit the office, “dad?”

“Cora,” he said with a small nod of his head before stopping right in front of their group, “Mr. Stilinski, I just wanted to let you know we are no longer going to be needing your services at the ranch.”

And Stiles thought he couldn’t sink any lower.

“Dad, what the hell?” Cora argued, her face going a deep red. “Stiles is amazing at his job and we love-”

“Watch your language, young lady.” Michael stated calmly, but his eyes had grown a bit darker. “I will inform Talia of this decision and make sure you are paid accordingly.”

Stiles didn’t say anything. He just nodded his head. He felt numb. Like the past hour was just a hazy dream. A nightmare. If his friends didn’t look completely horrified before they did now. Cora actually looked like she was on the verge of tears as Kira pulled her into a tight embrace. Jennifer’s smirk was particularly deadly as she passed him, but Stiles didn’t care. It would hurt too much to care and he couldn’t handle that right now.

“Stiles,” Scott said, fingers gripping his best friend’s shirt, “Stiles, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything, this is all my fault.”

“It’s okay, Scott.” Stiles replied in a small voice. “You didn’t do this.”

It was ripping his heart out to see Scott look so upset, thinking he was the reason for the misfortune that had befallen them the past few minutes. Scott was just standing up for Stiles. He was just being a good friend and he was punished for it. Scott looked like he was about to have a break down when they heard Melissa and Noah calling their names in the hallway.

“Scott,” Melissa said, voice immediately going into protective mode upon seeing her son, “what happened? What’s wrong?”

Noah was gripping Stiles’ shoulder, giving his son a concerned look. “Stiles, are you okay?”

Stiles looked up at his dad, a tear escaping down his cheek. “I don’t think I am.” He said before he let his dad pull him into a much needed bone crushing hug.

* * *

His father and Melissa spent nearly an hour yelling at the principal for the way he had handled the entire situation and how it was ridiculous that they had not waited until all parental guardians were present, which clearly influenced the decisions made. They then, together, went straight to the Hale mansion to give Michael a piece of their mind. Stiles sat on the couch, sandwiched between Scott and Kira, while Isaac sat on the floor in front of Scott, the box of pizza gone untouched. They were watching some movie, but Stiles found he couldn’t pay it any attention. He knew nothing was going to change. No amount of yelling on Noah or Melissa’s behalf was going to get him and Scott unbanned from prom or get Stiles’ job back. He hadn’t even been able to bring himself to text Derek. He wasn’t ready to handle that conversation.

“Screw prom.” Isaac said suddenly. He turned to look at the trio sitting on the couch. “We hated it last year, maybe this is a sign we shouldn’t be going anyway.”

“Isaac’s right,” Kira pitched in, “we could go on a trip or something that weekend. Something way more fun and worth our money. Screw prom!”

Stiles gave his friends a half smile, feeling a small knot loosen just a bit. “But what if we miss the Tracey vs. Hayden showdown round two.” He joked.

“Please,” Isaac said with a wave of his hand, “it was barely a round one with Tracey’s surprising strength.”

“We always did want to go on a trip to the Redwoods.” Scott piped in. “Now would be the perfect time.”

“We could even dress up in our prom clothes and take pictures there!” Kira suggested. “Think how great we’ll look.”

The conversion was breathing life back into the group and they had a half formed plan when his father and Melissa finally returned. One look at his father’s face told him everything he needed to know.

“What happened?” Isaac asked as Noah sat down in one of the arm chairs, looking like he had aged ten years since they had last saw him.

“I take it that it didn’t go well.” Scott said as he looked at his mom sadly.

“Michael Hale had the audacity to say that he has fully supported my run as the sheriff,” Noah began, his voice strained with anger and frustration, “especially since I have helped his future son-in-law’s career. But, he would more than happily make sure that during the next election cycle I would not get elected as sheriff.”

There was a collective gasp from the group as they all looked at Melissa, as if asking her to confirm whether these words were true or not. When she just nodded her head sadly Stiles felt like he had finally broke.

“Just leave it, dad.” He said. “It doesn’t matter.”

Noah looked up at his son, face hardening. “Stiles, of course it matters. This girl purposely gave you something you were allergic to and god help me if Scott hadn’t stopped you from eating it.” His voice was strained, pained to hear that Stiles was giving up. “If Michael Hale thinks he can threaten me then he has another thing coming. We’re not going to let them win.”

He could hear all of his friends agreeing with his father, but Stiles suddenly stood up. They didn’t get it. They would never get it. Stiles was never,  _ ever _ , going to stand a chance against someone like Michael Hale. He was being punished because he was someone they viewed as beneath him and he was threatening the very foundation they stood on. Because he loved Derek. Because Derek loved him. And now what he feared most was coming true. They had gotten tired of taking their cheap shots out on Stiles, and were setting their greedy, evil eyes on the people he cared about.

“They’ve already won.” Stiles whispered before he broke down into a sob.

* * *

Derek looked down at his phone, frowning slightly when he didn’t see a notification from Stiles. He’d gotten out of his appointment a few hours ago and had gone to lunch with his mom. He knew Stiles was out of school by now and it was unlike him not to text Derek back. He just chalked it up to Stiles being busy or having gotten caught up in something else, but he couldn’t shake this terrible nagging feeling in his stomach as he read over his last text sent.

“Expect to hear from someone?” Talia teased as she gave her son a small smile.

Derek hurriedly stuffed his phone in his jacket. “Just checking to see if anything exciting happened at school after I left.”

It’d been a long time since he and his mother had gotten to hang out just the two of them. Derek’s schedule had constantly been busy over the last couple of years and he had been focusing most of his free time sneaking around to hang out with his secret boyfriend. It was nice. Unlike his father Talia was genuinely interested in things that weren’t just basketball and lacrosse. She asked about his friends and what clubs he might be interested in when he went to Berkeley. She shared a few of her college stories that had Derek laughing until his sides ached. There was a small moment when she asked about his love life and if anyone had caught his eye.

_ “Mom,” Derek said, avoiding her gaze, “you know who dad wants me to marry.” _

_ Talia scrunched up her nose, grey-green eyes shining in disapprovement. She could never be truly honest with her feelings in front of her husband and their clients, but it was clear now that she wasn’t pleased with his father’s match making. _

_ “Cora tells me Jennifer is a delight.” She said with the thinnest layer of sarcasm. _

_ “That’s a word for it.” Derek agreed. _

_ “So,” she drew out the “o” in the word, slowly stirring her coffee with a straw, “no one else has caught my son’s eye?” _

_ Derek held his breath finally meeting those all knowing eyes. He suddenly wanted to tell her about Stiles, because he knew she would understand. She loved Stiles like a son. She would welcome him with open arms. She wouldn’t try to push an agenda or tell Derek that Stiles didn’t belong in  _ **_their world_ ** **.** _ She would accept Derek for who he was and who he loved. Maybe if he just told her things would be okay. _

_ “Not really.” Derek said instead, shrugging his shoulders, but somehow he could tell that she knew he was lying. _

“We should do this a little more before you head off to college.” Talia said as she put the car into park. “I know things have been a bit difficult with your father, but you and I can’t spend time together.”

Derek felt a sharp pang of guilt hit him. A lot of the reason he had been avoiding his mother was because she nearly came as a packaged deal with their father. And he wanted to spend as little time with the man as possible. She had gotten caught in the fire and he made a silent promise to seek her out more when he had the chance.

“I’d like that.” He said. “Maybe that can be our spot.” He suggested, enjoying the cozy coffee shop they had found downtown.

The smile she gave him was bright and happy, a peek of bunny teeth that he knew mirrored his own. He loved the things that made him more like Talia than Michael. Like his eyes.

“Sounds perfect.” She said before getting out of the car.

They had barely stepped inside when Cora came rushing down the stairs, face red, eyes swollen, and nearly hysterical. She crashed right into Talia, hiccuping cause she was crying so hard.

“Cora,” Talia said, running her fingers through her daughter’s hair, the smile from earlier completely gone, “what’s wrong?”

“It’s not fair!” She screamed into Talia’s coat before pulling back. “It’s not fair you have to fix this!”

“Fix what?” Talia asked with a mix of confusion and concern.

That terrible, gut wrenching ache in the pit of Derek’s stomach began to grow and he quickly took a few deep breaths to keep calm.

“Dad fired Stiles!” Cora yelled like her mother should already know. “He said his services were no longer needed after what happened at school!”

“What?” Derek asked sharply. And now Stiles not texting him back suddenly made sense. Something awful had happened after he left and Stiles had been caught right in the middle.

“Cora,” Michael snapped as he stepped into the entrance way, “calm yourself.”

“Cora,” Derek asked, not caring if his mother or father heard the desperation in his voice, “what happened at school?”

“Mr. Stilinski and his friend, the McCall boy accused Jennifer of giving out a cookie that could have caused a significant allergic reaction to Mr. Stilinski.” His father explained calmly like this was some sort of business meeting. Like he wasn’t talking to his children who looked absolutely devastated by the situation. “They could not prove it and-”

“Jennifer’s lying!” Cora spat, pulling herself from Talia and facing down Michael. “You just believe her because she’s a client’s daughter!”

“ _ Cora _ .” Michael’s voice was dangerous now. “Get yourself under control.”

“Harris hates Stiles,” Cora continued, unafraid, “he purposely threw the strawberry cookie away. Jennifer just wants Derek all to herself and is willing to take out anyone she thinks is in her way.”

Derek took in a shuddering breath, stiffening as his father’s eyes moved from Cora to him. Like a hunter spotting a more satisfying prey.

“Is that so?” His father asked, raising an eyebrow. 

There were so many unspoken things in that dangerous gaze. It was like his father was really looking at Derek, trying to figure out if there was some weight -  _ some truth _ \- to Cora’s words. And here it came. The sweeping tidal wave coming to drag Stiles out to sea. Here it came to put miles and miles and miles between them. Here it came to drown the boy, pull him under until his lungs filled with water and his screams became silent forever. Here came Michael Hale to destroy Stiles Stilinski.

“Michael,” Talia said angrily, “Stiles is an outstanding young man and he would never do something to harm another person. I will not fire him.”

His mother had saved him. His mother had saved Derek from answering because Derek had no idea what he would tell his father. The man was already on a warpath, paved by Jennifer and Gerard. If he denied everything he would be betraying Stiles. If he confessed it all he would be killing him. There was no way out. No way to win. The sound of his parents arguing faded as Derek looked past them into the living room. He could see a vase of white lilies sitting by the window. They were drooping and a little brown around the edges. 

_ Being a coward and killing the person you love most? White lilies.  _

Derek had never hated them more, but maybe it was just a metaphor for hating himself.

* * *

It wasn’t until nearly midnight when Stiles texted Derek.

_ S: Meet me at the cemetery tomorrow? _

Derek thought it was appropriate, considering it felt like he was no longer really alive.

* * *

Stiles strolled through the grounds, fingers fumbling with the hem of his -  _ of Derek’s  _ \- hoodie nervously. It was a quiet, sunny day outside, but Stiles could feel it in the air. The heavy weight of a spring storm brewing in the distance. The cemetery was a blur of greys and greens. Bright grass was sprouting from the ground, tickling the gravestones when they blew in the wind. Not many were decorated in colorful flowers as the weeks worth of rain had kept people away, but Stiles could see the occasional wildflower blooming in patches along the roots of trees. 

Stiles didn’t visit the cemetery often. He had been too afraid. Afraid that if he laid eyes on his mother’s grave he would find his name etched right next to hers. He stopped coming by on the anniversary of her death years ago when he couldn’t take the sight of the chipped white marble being her final resting place. He didn’t know why he chose here, of all places, but something was pulling him back. This is where it had ended once before, it only seemed appropriate that they came full circle.

When he found it he stopped, staring at the smooth outlines, the curves of the stone, and the letters etched across the front.

_ Here lies Claudia Stilinski beloved mother, wife, and friend _

Funny how your entire life was leading up to this moment, to these few words to have people remember you by. Stiles didn’t really think it was funny at all. He’d known it’d be hard to see, but it was an old ache, one that had never fully left his chest, a familiar pain. It didn’t nearly take his breath away or make the world spin. It just beat to the sound of his heart and settled in his bones.

_ “Mom, look, it’s Derek’s tree!” Stiles smiled as he pointed to the Grey Pine just a few feet away. It’s thin branches reached out over her plot, casting a beautiful shadow over the pine covered ground. _

_ “So it is, Little Mischief,” Claudia said with a smile from where she was sitting on top of the white marble, “well spotted.” _

_ Stiles ran over to it, running his hand over the familiar bark. He turned, giving his mom a small frown. “Can’t you come over and see it with me?” _

_ Claudia shook her head sadly. “I’m afraid I can’t leave this spot.” _

_ Stiles’ lips turned down harder, his forehead wrinkling. “Just like Derek. He stood so far away too.” _

_ Claudia tilted her head to the side. “I thought Derek was your anchor, Little Mischief.” _

_ Stiles pulled his gaze away from his mother, turning it towards the tree. He pulled a pinecone from a low, hanging branch turning it over in his hand. “Sometimes anchors can get lost too.” _

Stiles laid his hand against the tree. It was strange, how everything could change so quickly, and yet the tree looked the same. He knew it must have grown, but it looked just like it did almost ten years ago when he was standing beneath its branches on one of the worst days of his life. He suddenly regretted coming here, but as he turned to leave he spotted Derek standing just a few feet away.

“Hey.” he said, the word catching in his throat because now he was  _ positive _ this was a terrible idea, but he didn’t know what else to do.

“Stiles.” It was just his name, soft and pleading, carrying over the wind that would bring a storm, intent on washing them out to sea.

Stiles couldn’t help it as he propelled himself forward, Derek mirroring his movements. They hadn’t talked about it. Any of it. But Stiles knew by the way Derek held on to him - _ like this would be the last time _ \- that Derek was expecting the worst, because the worst was already happening. It didn’t matter how they felt or what they wanted. People like Jennifer, and Gerard, and Michael wouldn’t stop. They wouldn’t stop until they got exactly what  _ they _ wanted. And Stiles was tired. He was so fucking tired of fighting and pushing and proving that he was good enough. This was a battle he had been fighting alone. Because his person -  _ his anchor _ \- was being held hostage behind enemy lines.

“I’m sorry,” Derek said, his fingers digging into Stiles’ shoulder blades, “I’m so sorry.”

“Every time I think we’ve won a battle,” Stiles murmured against Derek’s ear, “we’ve just drawn that much closer to losing the war.”

[Derek](https://open.spotify.com/track/0JeOBfAvchyYnNR4KsWRH8?si=el2aVwFfTR2LNIgev3Vfcw) slowly untangled himself from Stiles arms, his eyes more grey than green. He wondered if the tree behind him faded into shades of grey. He wouldn’t know, he hadn’t seen it in years. He imagined the soft green bleeding into gray as winter clouds hung in front of the sun, stealing the light and warmth from the air. Stiles swallowed hard because it was getting difficult to form the words on his tongue. If he didn’t say them now then he would never say them. He would let their enemies take him apart, piece by piece. He would let them burn him to the ground until there was nothing left. Because letting go was harder than facing complete annihilation.

“I just want you know,” Stiles began, his voice breaking, “this is not on you.”

“Stiles…” Derek whined, his hands gripping Stiles’ waist tightly.

“Please,” Stiles said, closing his eyes for a moment, shaking his head, “please let me say this.”

When he opened them Derek was waiting, lips slightly parted and Stiles swore he could feel the boy’s heart practically bursting through his chest.

“I love you,” Stiles said, steady and sure, drawing the smallest of smiles from Derek, “I’ve always loved you. Probably since we were kids running through the woods when I didn’t really understand what love like this was I loved you anyway.”

Stiles felt like he had been shoved back ten years in the past, staring at Derek from across the cemetery. It was the moment they had become strangers, like their memories weren’t real or didn’t matter. Back then Stiles hadn’t understood why and it hurt. God it fucking hurt. Now here he was, facing the truth and the pain was somehow worse.

“But loving you isn’t enough to save me.” Stiles said in a shuddering breath. “I can’t keep going on like this. It’s killing me, Derek. It’s fucking killing me”

“We can still figure this out.” Derek pleaded, cupping Stiles’ cheek, thumb brushing away the tears that were falling heavy and fast now.

“I don’t think we can.” Stiles whispered. “Maybe they were right all along. Two worlds. Two shores. Too late.”

“You’re so much better than all of them,” Derek said fiercely, “you deserve so much more.”

“Maybe we’ll find each other again,” Stiles said as he nuzzled against Derek’s warm palm, “maybe third time will be our charm.”

Derek just shook his head, eyes glazing over with tears as he squeezed them shut. “I’m going to be lost without you.”

Stiles knew the feeling. He pressed forward bringing their lips together as Derek crashed into him. It was bittersweet and Stiles’ chest ached and ached and ached as Derek’s tongue swept along his bottom lip, begging for entrance. Stiles let him in, wanting to taste and savor because he may never have Derek Hale ever again. Too soon -  _ much too soon _ \- they were pulling back, foreheads resting against each other.

“I suppose I should give this back.” Stiles’ voice was barely above a whisper as he fisted the front of the hoodie.

“Keep it.” Derek replied immediately. “It was always yours anyway.”

Stiles leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to Derek’s lips before he pulled away completely. The first time he had lost Derek he felt like they were miles apart. Like he didn’t know the boy standing across from him. Derek had been the one to walk away, to leave Stiles behind. Now, as he turned to go, he could see that the person  _ he _ was leaving behind was bunny teeth, Derek’s tree,  _ never let you go _ Derek. 

* * *

Derek wanted to scream, he wanted to fight, he wanted to tell Stiles to  _ come back _ because this wasn’t their end, it couldn’t be. He wanted to tell Stiles that he had always loved him too. He loved him from the moment Stiles had given a tree his name. And maybe he didn’t really believe in soulmates, but whatever their souls were made of his and Stiles’ were the same. He wanted to be braver, to tell Stiles that he would fight, tooth and nail, until they could be free. He wanted to do so many things.

But Derek did what he always did best. He watched Stiles go.

When he couldn’t stand it any longer his eyes fell to the ground. There, swaying in the wind was a purple coneflower. Derek hated how much he wanted it to be a white lily. 

* * *

If Derek had thought the worst had happened that day in the cemetery then he was dead wrong. He thought the pain might actually kill him. There were no more secret meetings. No more stolen kisses. No more watching Stiles ride around the prairie on Arlo, head thrown back in laughter with wind swept hair. No more Stiles. He just wanted to be numb, to feel nothing because surely it was better than  _ this _ .

“Derek,” Jennifer hummed happily as she laid out colors that he could care less about, “what do you think about the ivory versus the white?” 

He was trying his hardest not to look across the courtyard, knowing Stiles was  _ right there _ . Stiles was right fucking there, but he wasn’t Derek’s anymore and he was once again out of reach. 

“Derek, hello!” Jennifer said, snapping her finger in his face.

“Ivory.” He replied dully.

“Perfect.” Jennifer said with a smile before she proceeded to talk about the schedule for prom night.

Derek wondered if this is what the rest of his life would be like. If he would be sitting around a table as Jennifer made plan after plan, meticulously scheduling their every waking moment down to the second. Would he be this miserable, this disconnected from the rest of the world? Maybe it would fade with time, but Derek didn’t even know where to begin. How could he think about Stiles without it ripping his heart out? When the bell rang to signify the end of class Derek finally managed to look up. Stiles was already gone.

Derek opted out of Friday night plans with his friends, much to their insistent pestering to go to some party he didn’t care about in the middle of nowhere. He couldn’t keep up the facade anymore. He couldn’t fake a smile. He was cracking, had been cracking all week and he just needed a fucking break. He needed to let his walls down. He needed to scream and shout and cry before he exploded.

So it came as a surprise to him when he stumbled into the barn, his feet carrying him there without thinking, to find Cora laying in a giant pile of hay, sipping from a glass bottle. She looked up from where she was, blinking as she took in Derek’s miserable state. They both stared at each other, knowing exactly what the dark liquid in the bottle was. She looked like he felt. Her eyes were swollen, cheeks a blotchy red, and her hair was in disarray around her face. She held up the bottle, like she was toasting to him.

“You look like shit.” She said matter-of-factly.

“So do you.” He snapped back.

She barked a laugh. “Yeah, want to join?”

He thought about taking the bottle away and putting her to bed, but misery loves company so he plopped down on the hay right next to her, taking the biggest swing as she passed him the bottle. He hated the taste so he drank again. And again. And again. They sat in silence for a while, the bottle moving between them. Derek laid back, crossing his arms behind his head, eyes staring up at the ceiling.

“What’s it like?” Cora asked after a long while.

Derek turned his head slightly so he could see her. She was looking up, her hands fiddling with the cap of the bottle nervously.

“What do you mean?” He asked when she didn’t elaborate.

He watched as she slowly rolled over onto her side so she was facing him now, her dark eyes wide, vulnerable. Most of the time Cora put on the appearance of being wild, tough, a rebel. Like she was trying to live up to the title of  _ the black sheep.  _ Now she looked like someone who was lost and scared.

“What’s it like to be with the person you want most?” She whispered, like it was a secret.

“How should I know?” He shot back.

She gave him a small, sad, knowing smile. “It’s okay, Derek, you don’t have to pretend with me.”

Derek inhaled sharply, wondering when the fuck she figured it out. He could have sat there, tormenting himself with the idea that maybe she wasn’t the only one who had figured out their little secret. But it didn’t matter anymore. There was nothing left to know. Derek laid back against the hay, eyes moving back up to the roof. He could see the ridges and grooves in the wood, their stained lines running in a spiral pattern.

“I feel like the answer you’re looking for would be something like the feeling of flying, of soaring above the clouds where no one could catch you.” He explained, pausing to lick his lips as he took another deep breath. “But really, it was grounding more than anything. A feeling of  _ home _ in a smile, a kiss, or his arms.”

He chanced a side glance at his sister, but there was a half smile curled against her lips as she kept her eyes on his face. He had never admitted out loud to another person before. It was strange, like letting go of a secret he had been holding close to his chest for too long. He thought it’d be more earth shattering, telling someone he loved a boy. He never imagined it’d be whispered in a horse barn, laying in a pile of hay, with a bottle passing between himself and his younger sister. Yet, somehow, it felt a little bit right, a little bit wrong, but a little bit right too.

“So why is it over?” Cora asked quietly.

Derek was quiet for a moment. It was a simple question with a complicated answer. Maybe they were always destined to end up this way. Fate had pulled them apart more than once before. Maybe in a different life. Maybe in a different world. 

“Because letting Stiles go is better than losing him.” He murmured.

“Sounds like the same thing to me.” Cora hummed before she took another drink.

Derek watched her face scrunch in disgust as she swallowed, using the back of her hand to wipe away the liquid that had spilled over her lips. He could have argued that it wasn’t the same. Letting him go was a choice. Losing him wasn’t. But, maybe Cora had a point. Either way the pain was threatening to swallow him whole, making it impossible to catch his breath. 

Because he  _ had _ lost Stiles.

It was just easier to pretend like he had a choice in the matter.

“Maybe it is.” He spoke softly.

“Laura’s the lucky one.” Cora laughed bitterly. “At least she loves Jordan. You and I just get stuck with whoever father wants to throw us to.”

“I don’t want to marry Jennifer.” Derek confessed, grabbing the bottle and stealing another drink. “I don’t want to fucking marry Jennifer.”

“I want to kiss Kira.”  Cora added wistfully, eyes going a little dreamy.

“You should,” Derek said half serious, half joking, “you fucking should.”

“And watch dad and Gerard destroy her too?” Cora asked, gaze turning back upwards. “Stiles is one of the best people I’ve ever met and they broke him. Because that’s what they do when they don’t get their way.” Her voice was rising now, tears streaming down her face. “They rip and they tear and they kill and they break you. They break you until you don’t fight back, until you’re under their complete control. That’s what they’ve done to us, Derek. That’s what they’re going to keep doing to us for the rest of our goddamn lives.”

Derek hesitantly reached out before his fingers securely wrapped around her hand. Whether it was for his comfort or her own, Derek wasn’t sure, but Cora squeezed back anyway.They’d forever share the deep ache of never truly getting to be who they really were or love who they wanted to love. But, at least they had each other. 

* * *

Stiles knew breaking up with Derek would set his recovery back. It’d been hard for him to finish meals and he wasn’t sleeping well again. Marin told him recovery wasn’t a straight line to success. There were ups and downs and it was okay to not get better all at once. Still, sometimes Stiles couldn’t help, but feel like he was failing everyone around him. He was working through those feelings too. He was constantly questioning whether he had made the right decision, finding the smallest amount of relief when Jennifer and Gerard were no longer breathing down his neck. 

It didn’t make him feel any less miserable about it though. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Derek, opting to have his hood pulled over his head to keep the boy out of his peripheral vision. He wondered how big Berkeley’s campus was and how often he would run into Derek and Jennifer holding hands as they walked down the quad together. The thought alone made him sick. Because he knew Derek didn’t want anything to do with Jennifer, but he maybe -  _ he selfishly thought _ \- would one day change his mind about it all.

One day he would figure out how to put miles and miles and miles between them. Maybe then it wouldn’t hurt as much. Stiles didn’t think so.

“Hey,” Scott’s voice came from his bedroom door, “can I come in?”

Stiles pulled himself away from his desk, giving his best friend a half hearted smile. “What’s up, Scotty?”

“We’re supposed to go over the trip details tonight,” Scott said as he sat down on the edge of Stiles’ bed, “remember?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said as he crossed his arms over his chest, “but that’s not until later tonight after Kira’s sword lesson.”

“Right,” Scott said as he rubbed the back of his neck, his face going red, “well…”

“Scott,” Stiles said, quipping an eyebrow, “what do you want to ask me?”

Scott laughed nervously, “How do you know I want to ask you something?”

“Dude,” Stiles said with an exasperated sigh, “I’ve kind of known you my whole life.”

Scott smiled now, ruffling his shaggy brown hair so it was pushed out of his baby browns. “I’m just worried, I know you’ve been struggling the past week.”

“Marin says that’s normal.” Stiles said with a small shrug of his shoulders.

“You mean it doesn’t have to do with you and Derek Hale not seeing each other anymore?” Scott asked shyly, his eyes watching Stiles’ face curiously. 

Stiles felt his jaw drop slightly, his body going slack. Out of all the things Scott could have said that was not one Stiles ever expected to hear. Here he was, holding his relationship with Derek hostage, not telling a soul because he wanted to keep it safe. And Scott just knew. How the fuck did Scott know?

“Dude,” Scott said, still smiling as he repeated Stiles’ words, “I’ve kind of known you my whole life.”

“You’re not mad?” Stiles asked, swallowing a lump in his throat. He had been so afraid his friends would be upset for keeping something like that from them. Now here Scott was, clearly knowing for a while now that  _ something _ was going on between himself and Derek.

“Why would I be mad?” Scott asked, confused. “Knowing Derek’s family and the Jennifer situation I’m sure it was beyond a little complicated.” 

“A little complicated doesn’t even begin to describe it.” Stiles replied with a wry smile. “I think I was in way over my head on this one, Scotty.”

Scott frowned, “Did he make you happy?”

“Unbelievably so.” Stiles replied immediately. “I just couldn’t-”

He broke off, his voice already shaking thinking about the hell he’d gone through. He was once again left with the terrible feeling of how  _ unfair _ it all was. They were just two boys -  _ two people _ \- who loved each other. It was simple, so simple, but the entire world sought to keep them apart no matter the cost. And it had cost Stiles a lot.

“Stiles,” Scott said softly, reaching out to squeeze his best friend’s arm, “you don’t need to explain.”

But he did. He really did. He’d been holding it for so long, carrying around like a weight tied to his ankle, sinking him deeper and deeper. He needed someone to tell him that it wasn’t his fault. That he hadn’t just made the worst mistake of his life because it certainly felt like it. So it began spilling out of him. Everything. Because he couldn’t stop and maybe at some point he started crying because it fucking hurt. Scott, bless him, didn’t say a single fucking word. He just listened and nodded his head and squeezed Stiles’ hand and pulled him into a hug when it was all over.

“It won’t last forever.” Scott murmured in Stiles’ ear.

And maybe that was true, but Stiles wasn’t so sure anymore.

* * *

[Stiles](https://open.spotify.com/track/3O5osWf1rSoKMwe6E9ZaXP?si=qcceEvUXRBGbS169KosORg) saw that Derek and Jennifer had been crowned prom king and queen. He’d never seen Derek look so miserable in his life.

Derek couldn’t help, but notice how beautiful Stiles looked against the redwoods. The sun catching through the leaves, fanning over his milk white skin. He wanted to kiss the boy under those trees.

***

Stiles was running late to class, nearly tripping over his feet as he sprinted down the hall. He felt a strong hand grip his arm, keeping him from falling. When he looked up to thank the person who had saved him his breath caught in his throat. It was that familiar grey-green that sent his heart racing. All thoughts abandoned him, rendering him silent.

Derek could feel that familiar hum of electricity, of spark -  _ of magic _ \- pumping through his veins as his finger brushed against the cool skin. They’d been avoiding each other as best as they could because god  _ fuck _ it was still too painful. 

They didn’t say a single word as they went on their way. When Derek turned to look back he could see Stiles looking too.

***

Stiles stared up at his ceiling, fingers fidgeting with the strings of his -  _ of Derek’s _ \- hoodie. It still smelled like him. Like cologne and pine and boy. His bed had always felt a little colder, a little bit bigger, a little more emptier without Derek pressed against him. He knew it was late, but he’d been avoiding falling asleep. He had another nightmare, but this time the monster wasn’t his mother. It was Jennifer. It was Gerard. And instead of just dragging Stiles into the darkness they had taken Derek down with them. He rolled over onto his side, eyes landing on the empty spot Derek used to fill.

Derek reached out in the space of his bed where Stiles had once been. He could still picture Stiles biting his lip, a mischievous grin on his face as he pulled Derek under the sheets kissing him softly. He could hear the boy’s laugh muffled by the pillow, breaking the usual quiet that filled Derek’s room. It had never felt so lonely before. Derek supposed he should grow used to the silence.

***

There was a boy. There was a handsome boy. There was a handsome boy and he was flirting with Stiles. Derek felt his grip against his locker tighten, the metal cutting into his hand. Stiles was laughing, tossing his head back, exposing his long neck. Derek wanted to sink his teeth into the delicate skin, mark it up to show that handsome boy that Stiles was his. But he wasn’t Derek’s. Not anymore. And it was like the realization was hitting him all over again. He could feel blood, warm and sticky, running down his arm, but nothing hurt as much as watching Stiles slowly slip further and further away.

He was cute. Really cute. And funny and totally flirting with him. But Stiles felt nothing. His laughter was forced and his eyes were focused just past the cute boy’s shoulder. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. Someone was interested in Stiles and he couldn’t bring himself to actually try. Maybe he was broken. When the boy asked him if he could walk Stiles to class he agreed, like walking together would magically change his feelings. When he turned he could see the tick of anger in Derek’s jaw as the boy hurried passed them. He could see the hard, tense lines of his shoulder. He hated how much he wished Derek was the one beside him, walking him to class.

***

When the coneflowers began to grow in waves around the preserve Derek wanted to rip them from the ground. He wanted to cut down every goddamn  _ Derek’s Tree _ he could see. He wanted to forget so he could pretend that being with Jennifer made him happy. But all he could think about is what he lost and how much it still fucking hurt. 

Scott had said that the pain couldn’t last, but Stiles was beginning to think that the terrible ache that ran deep in his bones would haunt him forevermore. 

* * *

Derek watched the rain fall in sheets out of the window as he sat in the living room, listening to his father talk about their big, summer fundraiser they held every year. Cora was trapped on the couch next to him, looking just as bored. Peter and his mother were playing a game of chess. It was rarely ever just the five of them these days. Gerard had been making his presence known and Derek hardly felt like he had any Jennifer free moments anymore. While he could care less about what his father was saying at least he didn’t have greedy or cunning eyes pinning him against the wall. There were no vases of white lilies staring him down. The rain pelted against the window harder, drowning out his father’s voice. Derek wondered if that stupid secret garden of coneflowers was drowning too.

“This will be an excellent time to announce Derek and Jennifer’s courtship.” Michael’s voice carried across the room.

Derek’s head snapped up at that. “What?”

All eyes were on him. He just now realized how pained and desperate that one word sounded. He shouldn’t have been surprised. They were practically dating anyway, but nothing had ever been  _ official  _ before. This was it. The final nail in the coffin. This was Derek losing Stiles for good.

“Derek,” his father rolled his eyes, voice exasperated as if he was explaining it for the hundredth time instead of the first, “don’t act so surprised.”

Derek just looked at his father, the man daring Derek to defy him. He knew he wouldn’t. He knew his son would never go against what his father wanted, what his father demanded. He hadn’t before, why would he ever start now? Derek swallowed. Hard. He turned, his gaze falling against the rain on the window. 

“That’s what I thought.” His father said and Derek could practically hear the fucking smirk in the man’s voice.

He remembered catching his mother staring out the window all the time after Claudia had died. After a particularly bad fight with his father. After being talked down to by Gerard. He had always wondered what she was doing. What she was thinking. Now he understood. She was searching for some sort of future, some moment, where everything was just and right. Where things like  _ happily ever after  _ existed. Where their freedom was within their grasp. Where they weren’t facing down the end of all things. Because that’s what Derek saw as the rain came down and down and down. He saw himself wrapped up in Stiles’ arms. He saw himself finally being the person  _ he  _ wanted to be. 

He finally saw Derek Hale.

“I don’t want to be with Jennifer.”

The room became dead silent. Derek knew they were all looking at him again, but when he turned he only had eyes for one person. His father’s head was tilted to the side, giving his son a curious glance.

“What did you say, son?” He asked. Derek hated when Michael called him son. It sounded wrong. Out of place. Like the word didn’t belong on the man’s tongue.

“I said I don’t want to be with Jennifer.” He repeated the words louder, more sure. “I’ve never wanted to be with Jennifer.”

“Derek-” his father sighed, but Derek wasn’t letting the man talk, not this time.

“It’s not fair.” Derek was standing now, but he kept his voice calm and steady. “It’s not fair that you expect so much from me. From Laura. From Cora. We’re your children, not your business deals.”

Out of the corner of his eye he could see his mother and Peter watching him. He swore he could see the faintest of smiles on Peter’s lips.

“Enough.” His father barked. “We are not discussing this anymore.”

“I’m not marrying Jennifer.” Derek continued, because goddammit he was going to be heard. “I don’t love her, I don’t even like her.”

His father’s face was hard now. “You think this is about love?”

“Laura loves Jordan.” Derek said as he drew closer to his father. “And I love someone too.”

He was surprised his voice didn’t break or waver, but he wasn’t afraid anymore. He wouldn’t allow Michael Hale decide who he got to become.

“And who would that be?” His father asked through tight lips.

“Stiles.” Derek replied without hesitation and god did it feel fucking  _ freeing _ . “I’m in love with Stiles Stilinski.”

He could see his mother’s eyes glossing over with tears, a grin spreading across Cora’s face, and Peter giving him the proudest smile he had ever seen grace his uncle’s lips.

“The stable boy.” His father spat.

“He’s more than that.” Derek growled. “He’s so much more than that. He’s the best person I’ve ever met. My whole life I’ve been told Stiles could never be good enough for me. That he didn’t belong with people like us.” He paused, inhaling sharply, his thumb brushing over his bottom lip before exhaling. “But the truth is  _ I _ don’t deserve Stiles. He’s good and kind and loyal and I love him.”

“A simple infatuation that clearly won’t last.” His father said dismissively. “Gerard was right in saying that boy was a bad influence on you.”

“Gerard is wrong.” Derek took another step forward, shoulders back and head held high. “And if he thinks he can touch a hair on Stiles’ head then I will end him.”

“Watch your tongue young man.” Michael snapped. “It’s bad enough you think you’re in love with some low life boy, but to threaten one of our-”

“I like girls.” Cora stated, standing up, moving to stand next to Derek in solidarity. “I like girls and Stiles is my friend. I won’t let you hurt him either.”

Derek turned his head towards her, giving her a supportive smile. Cora only grinned in return. Michael looked down right infuriated now, his fist clenching and Derek half wondered if the man would actually hit them. He made sure he was slightly in front of his sister, ready to take the blow if it would land on them.

“I see this boy has poisoned both of your minds,” Michael said in a low voice, a dangerous hiss echoing over his words, “it seems I will need to remind you both where your loyalties lie. And I will start with making sure Stiles will not be bothering us again.”

Derek had never been sure exactly what his father was capable of until that very moment. While he knew Michael would never kill anyone, there were other ways to get rid of people and Stiles was target number one. 

“Michael,” Talia was suddenly in front of them now, like a mother wolf protecting her pups, “you will not harm Stiles.”

“Talia,” Michael said calmly, “stand aside.”

“I will not stand by and watch you destroy a family that means so much to us.” She snarled. “If you or Gerard even think about hurting the Stilinski family I will see to it that our marriage is over and I will take everything from you.”

Derek and Cora quickly exchanged a shocked glance. Never had they seen Talia so angry, so fiercely protective before. 

Michael laughed, but his eyes were dark. “You think you can take everything from me?”

Talia’s smile was all teeth. “Remember who made you, Michael. My father built the Hale business and my father has the best lawyer in the entire country.”

“I am the face of this company.” Michael sneered. “My clients-”

“Our clients,” Peter said with a smirk as he came to stand next to his sister, “our did you forget I am the face of this company too and I actually have the Hale bloodline to prove it.”

Sometimes Derek had forgotten that their father had started from nothing. When he met their mother he had been the one to change  _ his _ last name because  _ Hale _ was a name everyone knew. Their grandfather had passed on his business to Peter, to Michael because, together, they were stronger. Peter had the charm and Michael knew how to close. But at the end of the day Michael knew that Peter could take it all back, that Talia could take it all back too. Their father looked like he wanted to argue, but he was a smart man. He could see that he would never win that war.

“No need for threats of divorce today, my dear,” he said in a tight voice, “if this is the path your children have chosen then I will not stand in their way.”

“Maybe one day you will love them for who they are.” Talia said sadly, her hands coming up to grip Derek and Cora’s shoulders.

Michael gave them a smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “I expect Derek to attend all future meetings and client lunches until he leaves for college, the business will be his someday.”

Derek swallowed, meeting his father’s eyes. It may have been the closest thing to acceptance he would ever get from the man. “I will.”

Michael sighed as he adjusted the cuffs on his sleeves, “Very well, I will be in my office,” he said, brushing past them, “at least I still have Laura to give me a lineage.”

The comment would have stung more, but Derek could care less because he had done it. He had finally broken free. Before he could say anything before he could let the feeling really sink in his mother was pulling him and Cora into a tight embrace.

“I am so proud of you two,” she said and Derek could tell she was crying, “and I am so sorry I did not stand up for you sooner.”

“That was pretty cool watching you go all alpha mode on dad.” Cora said with a huge smile.

“Yes,” Peter said as he brushed invisible lint from his shoulder, “Talia can be rather frightening when she wants to be.”

“He won’t hurt Stiles, right?” Derek asked as he leveled his mother and uncle with a serious look. “He won’t let Gerard or Jennifer’s father do anything to Stiles or his family?”

“Oh, I will personally make sure Gerard knows not to lay a finger on our favorite stable boy.” Peter said with a wicked grin.

“Peter,” Cora said as she punched her uncle in the arm, “don’t call him that!”

Peter just gave her a feral smile in return. Derek let go of a deep breath, one he felt like he had been holding in for years. It was like he had finally reached the surface, breaking through the dark, blue waves of water, catching the first few rays of sunshine. 

“Now to see if it’s too late.” Derek murmured as he looked out the window, the steady pounding of rain fading into a light drizzle. Just beyond the tree line of the preserve Derek swore he could see a garden of purple coneflowers waving in the distance. If they could survive the storm, then maybe he could too.

* * *

[Stiles](https://open.spotify.com/track/05YoWLFjHU9qc4tXcCqtLW?si=ma6EK5s-Q5CLMOCqUWFNrQ) let his gaze fall over the photos on his phone as he scrolled through his camera roll. He had created a private file for all of the photos he and Derek had taken together. He’d never get over how the light created flecks of gold in that grey-green sea. He’d never forget how that bunny teeth smile would send his heart fluttering every time it was directed at him. He’d never forget how it felt to be loved by Derek Hale. His fingers hovered over the delete button, knowing these photos would just be painful reminders of what could never be. He sighed explosively before setting his phone down on his chest. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t get Derek out of his head -  _ his heart _ \- no matter how hard he tried.

But maybe he wasn’t really trying at all.

There was a small tap at his widow and he quickly sat up, eyes darting over in that direction. For a moment Stiles could have sworn he was dreaming because this couldn’t be fucking real. Derek Hale was waiting just outside of his window at two in the morning in the middle of the rain. Stiles hurried over to the window, throwing it open to let the boy in. Derek gracefully stepped over the sill, a little wet as he shook the water out of his hair. Stiles’ heart was hammering out of his chest because Derek was here. Why was Derek here?

“Hey,” Derek said with a small smile, like they hadn’t been avoiding each other the past two months.

“Uh, hi.” Stiles said as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Um, what are you doing here?”

He watched as Derek licked his lips, running a hand through his dark hair, a nervous laugh escaping him. “I told my family everything.”

Stiles felt his jaw drop. He must not have heard Derek correctly because he had just admitted to telling his family,  _ his father _ , about them. “You what?” 

“I told my family about us.” Derek repeated, his voice steady and sure. Stiles knew he wasn’t lying. He knew because he knew Derek Hale like no one else did. “I told my father I didn’t want to be with Jennifer. I told him I wanted to be with you.”

Stiles felt like he couldn’t breathe because this was it. This was worlds colliding, earth shattering, ground splitting, fire raining from the sky, disaster that he had been waiting for. This was Derek throwing everything away because he thought Stiles was worth loving. 

“Derek…” Stiles said, voice breaking.

“I love you, Stiles.” Derek said as he took a step forward. “I’ve always loved you ever since you named a tree after me, I have loved you.”

“I’m not-” Stiles started, shaking his head, taking a step back, this couldn’t be happening, they couldn’t be anything, they just couldn’t be, “Derek, I’m not worth it.”

“Yes,” Derek said, cupping Stiles’ face, his voice fierce and determined, “you are. You are worth more than anything else in this world and I want to be with you.”

“What about your father?” Stiles asked because he knew what would happen, he knew who would come for him. “What about Gerard and Jennifer?”

“They won’t touch you.” Derek murmured, thumb brushing over Stiles’ cheek. “My mom, Peter, we all made sure they won’t touch you.”

“Why?” Stiles asked in a pained voice.

“Because they love you too.” Derek answered simply. “So, be with me. For real this time. No more secrets, no more hiding. Be with me.”

Stiles couldn’t take his eyes off of Derek’s face. This was bunny teeth, Derek’s Tree,  _ never let you go  _ Derek. This was  _ his  _ Derek. The Derek he had loved almost all his life. This was two worlds becoming one, two shores finally closing the distance between them. This was Derek loving Stiles with every fiber of his being.

And this was Stiles loving Derek in return.

“Yes,” Stiles said as he broke into a smile, “yes, yes, yes, yes!”

He didn’t wait any longer, didn’t give Derek a chance to breathe as he brought their lips together. Just like that the spark of electricity, that deep, humming magic filled Stiles as Derek pulled him closer. 

And this, _ this _ felt like forever.

“I love you.” Stiles whispered against Derek’s skin.

“I know.” Derek grinned in return before pulling Stiles’ into another kiss.

* * *

The sun reflected beautifully over the dancing water, broken by the ripples of a waterfall splashing in the distance. The sound of laughter was heard over the spilling water as waves of blue crashed against bodies swimming in the shallow pool.

“Isaac I’m going to kill you.” Lydia growled as she set her green eyes on the curly blonde who had dared to get her perfectly braided hair wet.

“Good luck.” Jackson snorted as he lowered his sunglasses to give Isaac a sympathetic look before returning to his tanning session. 

“Do you think we should help him?” Kira asked as she turned to look at Scott, Cora was wrapped around her waist, like she could protect her from Lydia’s wrath that was sure to consume them all.

“No,” Scott said with a snort, “he brought this on himself.”

“Some boyfriend you are!” Isaac called as he tried to duck behind Boyd as if that would protect them.

Everyone laughed as they watched Lydia chase Isaac around the pool. Erica turned towards the shore, cupping her hands over her mouth, “Hey, are you two going to join us in the water or not?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Stiles replied as he untangled himself from Derek’s limbs, “I know you miss me already.” He teased as he began to pull off his shirt.

“Where are you going?” Derek asked as he tugged on Stiles, making the boy come tumbling back down into his arms.

Stiles laughed as they rolled off the blanket and into a small patch of grass along the tree line. Derek ended up on top, looking down at Stiles like he was the best thing in the entire world. Stiles eyes wandered up to the pines sitting just above them, his too big, too bright smile filling his face.

“What?” Derek asked as he followed Stiles’ gaze.

“Derek’s Tree.” He said simply.

Derek could feel his heart fluttering in his chest. He would never get tired of seeing that too big, too bright smile on his boyfriend’s face. He would never get tired of seeing  _ Derek’s Tree _ standing tall in the preserve, surrounded by a sea of coneflowers. But most of all he would never get tired of kissing Stiles, of having that bone deep, belly aching, magic feeling of loving Stiles.

Their lips met beneath the tree and it was like finally finding that missing piece of  [ _ home _ .  ](https://open.spotify.com/track/4bYRPHqa4EhjaEGuR4ZFrn?si=OXeRKcYeQwOL7fWRim4N9A)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I view the last song as something that would play for an end credit scene and it just fit the fic perfectly!
> 
> AHH THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! Seriously, this fic was a labor of love and if you made it this far thank you so so so so much. I truly appreciate it with all my heart. I hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know your thoughts! And again, thank you fore reading ❤️

**Author's Note:**

> If you've read this far, I thank you very very much! The entire fic itself is finished, but I wanted to post it in two parts. So please let me know your thoughts so far! Kudos/comments always appreciated!


End file.
